


Bigfoot

by Fier



Category: The X-Files
Genre: Angst, Case Fic, Dana Scully Torture, Fox Mulder Torture, Gen, Hospitalization, Hospitals, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-30
Updated: 2020-07-30
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:28:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 27,529
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25618096
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fier/pseuds/Fier
Summary: Mulder goes hunting after fairytales again and Scully tags along. Things don't turn out the way Mulder hoped they would and things go wrong...
Relationships: Fox Mulder/Dana Scully
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> **Title** : Bigfoot
> 
>  **Author** : P.C.Rasmussen (piacathrin@rasmussen.mail.dk)
> 
>  **Disclaimer** : Don't own'em, never have, never will. I'm just borrowing for a bit. I'll put'em back when I'm done.
> 
>  **Spoilers** : None, really.
> 
>  **Rating** : R (I guess. Nothing overly revolting in this one, a little MT, a little ST and there is talk of less appetising things, but nothing overly graphic. Read at your own discression.)
> 
>  **Author's note** : Well, this thing has been roaming around my head for a bit, so I figured it was time to let it out. It was fun to write, so I hope you guys have fun reading it. Comments are much appreciated, as usual, and will be answered. Enjoy!

**J. Edgar Hoover building  
Washington, DC**

The basement corridor was uncommonly quiet that morning, giving Dana Scully the odd sensation of being alone in the world. That was not a sensation she was used to feeling. She briefly glanced at her watch as she walked briskly toward the office, trying to attribute the silence to the early hour. But, as usual, it was two to eight, giving her just enough time to claim to be early. A smile briefly crossed her lips. Mulder would be there, of course, with some lame excuse about not being able to sleep. He was, in fact, a workaholic and an insomniac and it would surprise her if she came in one morning and found an empty desk without the matching explanation.

Exactly at 07:59 a.m., she pushed the door open and stopped short with surprise written all over her face. “Deja-vu,” she mumbled under her breath, her eyes on Mulder’s empty desk. He wasn’t there, which could mean only one thing. Skimming the surface of the desk, she stopped at a folder lying on the right side, the only type of paper visible in the entire office. There was the matching explanation, she thought. Slightly annoyed already, she crossed the floor and grabbed the folder, flipping it open. It contained a plane ticket and a note. It said: Meet me at the airport, M. With a frown, she flipped the ticket open to determine where they were going this time.

* * *

**Dulles International Airport  
Washington, DC**

Mulder glanced at his watch and looked around once more. It was always a hazard to leave a message for Scully the way he had this morning. Mainly because he wasn’t sure she would even see it. Maybe she was late or maybe she had called in sick, unbeknownst to him. With a sigh, he dug his cell-phone out of his pocket and was in the process of dialling the number for the office when he received a decidedly agitated tap on the back of his right shoulder. He swirled around to face his decidedly unhappy looking partner standing right behind him. He was somewhat surprised by her sudden appearance as he hadn’t even heard her come up behind him.

The look she gave him, a well-known and much loathed look, made him want to run and hide, but instead he smiled broadly at her, maintaining his immaculate facade and not disclosing how nervous she made him when she looked at him like that. Before he could say anything, though, she held up her ticket.

“Canada?” she asked, her tone disclosing her unhappiness much more clearly than her expression did. “Why in God’s name as we going to the North-western Territories, Mulder?”

“Because that’s where our next case is,” he replied, careful not to say too much unless he had to. She could still bail out and he wanted her with him. Their years together had made him realized that it was much more fun to make incredible discoveries when he had someone to share them with.

“What case, Mulder? Why do you keep doing this to me?” she demanded and stuffed the ticket almost angrily into her coat pocket. “It’s cold in Canada. It’s snowing in Canada. It’s damned well freezing in Canada. Do I need to paint you a picture?”

“I know it’s cold, Scully, but this can’t wait. I take it you went home and packed?” he asked, waving at the backpack sitting next to her right foot.

“Yes, I did. Do you think I want to freeze to death in the Canadian wilderness?” she sputtered, unable to retain the emotional storm raging within. With a deep breath, she calmed herself down a little. “All right. So, what is this case about?”

Mulder quickly glanced at his watch once more, and then picked up her backpack, which she immediately made a grab for and held onto. “We’d better check in. It’s getting late,” he replied, bravely avoiding the subject.

“Mulder,” she warned him, well aware that she would not be able to wring it out of him until they were on the plane and there was no way back for her. “What is this case about?”

“Give me your ticket. I’ll check us in,” he said, holding out a hand for her ticket. “I’ll tell you on the plane,” he added when she made no move to comply.

For a moment longer, she considered withholding the ticket until he told her, but then sighed, gave it to him and at the same time released her backpack into his care. There was no sense in arguing with him about it. He wasn’t going to give in. She knew that from experience. Stuffing her hands into the pockets of her coat, she watched him hurry over to the check-in counter with their backpacks and thought of all the possible impossible scenarios he might have dug up. What could be in Canada that fascinated him so much that he just had to chase after it? A couple of things came to mind and none of them made her sigh with relief.

With another heartfelt sigh, she followed Mulder over to the check-in counter and stood by while he got their seat numbers and heard the woman behind the counter tell Mulder they’d better hurry or they would miss their flight.

So they hurried. They made the flight and ended up sitting side by side, her by the window, him by the isle, and neither spoke until the plane was airborne. Scully felt she had given him all the time he might need and eventually turned a little in her seat. “So, Mulder,” she said, with no small amount of satisfaction noting how his shoulders rose at the tone of her voice. A subtle, but to her very noticeable movement. “What’s this case about, then?”

Mulder glanced at her from the corner of his eye, and then sighed. He would have to tell her. He couldn’t very well expect her to co-sign a report on something she knew nothing about. “We’re going to Canada to look for...” he began, but then hesitated.

Scully held up a hand. “No, please, let me guess,” she interrupted. “Could we perchance be on the trail of the ever-elusive... and in my book, none-existent... Bigfoot?” It was a shot in the dark, but she hadn’t spent the past many years with him without learning a little bit about how he thought. And her money was on Bigfoot. Either that or some other kind of forest dwelling, never-before-seen creature, which obviously had a tendency to only show itself when there was heavy snowfall and the wind was strong enough to knock a moose off its feet.

Mulder gave her a surprised look. “You knew?” he asked, aware that she was probably guessing. But she was becoming really good at it and it disturbed him a little at times.

“I didn’t, but you just confirmed it,” she told him, unable to keep the triumphant tone to her voice at bay. “So, what... uhm... scientific evidence do you have of this?”

For a moment, Mulder remained silent. It was a little scary how well she knew him. Usually, he didn’t let people get close enough to get to know him that well. None of his girlfriends had ever known him that well, including Phoebe and Diana. With pursed lips, he reached into his briefcase and produced the case file. Somewhat reluctantly, he handed it over to her.

Scully took it without a word and started flipping through it. She read some of the text, eyed the pictures closely for a few moments, then eventually closed the folder again and leaned back on her seat. With various responses in mind, she opted for the one most likely to get a rise out of her wayward partner. She remained silent and stared ahead of herself with a painfully neutral expression on her face, not at any point disclosing how she might feel about the validity of this case.

For a while after she had closed the folder again, Mulder just sat there, staring at his hands folded in his lap, ready for another earth-shattering verdict from her. But she said nothing. Eventually, he glanced over at her. “Well?” he asked.

Scully glanced back at him. “Well what?” she asked back.

“What do you think?” he wanted to know and shifted a little to get a better look at her.

Scully shrugged. She knew it drove him nuts when she didn’t utter a concise opinion when he asked her questions about cases they were on. Even though she had a very distinct opinion of this case, she wasn’t going to air it until she felt good and ready. And the fact that it made him itchy was just an added bonus.

“That’s all?” he asked, already sounding a little agitated. “You just shrug?”

Scully had to fight a smile threatening to spread over her lips. She figured she was just about the only person in the world right now who could get under his skin. It was a frightful power to have. No matter how much his colleagues scorned him, he brushed it off with no apparent side effect. But when she appeared indifferent to his cause, he took it badly. It made her wonder what exactly he felt where she was concerned. “What do you want me to say? You drag me out to the airport under false pretence and expect me to jump for joy?”

“We’ve done this before,” he claimed and knew he was right. They had done it before. “You’ve never put up a fight before,” he added with an air of surprise and bewilderment.

“We haven’t done it this way before, Mulder. I expect you to damned well tell me what it’s about before you drag me out into the middle of nowhere to look for a frigging unicorn,” she growled. She had promised herself that she wouldn’t get angry. But here she was, fuming with righteous anger.

“We’re not... uh... looking for a unicorn," he said meekly, aware of what a twist this could put on the conversation.

“I know that,” she hissed. “It was a metaphor, Mulder. For Pete’s sake, why do you always have to do it this way, huh? You think I would let you go up there all by yourself if you told me the truth? Have you ever heard of asking nicely?”

He virtually ducked his head at her tone of voice. She wasn’t even looking at him and her voice was low, but it still stung as if she had slapped him. “I’m sorry, okay? I just figured... well... that you wouldn’t bother if I told you straight out what it was about. And I really need you on this case. As on any other case.”

Somewhat mollified by his begging tone of voice and his open admission that he needed her, she almost caved in. But she wasn’t going to make it that easy on him. He would have to make up for this one. Big time. “Yeah, you’re sorry alright,” she grumbled under her breath. “Until the next time you pull one over on me again. I’m telling you, Mulder, this is getting too much.”

“I’ll make it up to you,” he promised and took the file back. “And I’ll fill you in from now on, okay?”

Scowling, she folded her arms over her chest. “You’d better,” she threatened.

* * *

**Yellowknife  
North-western Territories  
Canada**

The remainder of their trip was rather uneventful alas a little longer than Scully would have liked and after changing planes in first Toronto and then Edmonton, they arrived in Yellowknife approximately six and a half hours later including the layover time in both airports. Once there, Mulder set about finding a route to the place they needed to go. He had it all planed until the woman behind the car rental desk gave him a strange look when he told her where he wanted to go.

“Duncan Lake?” she asked and stared at him as he had just claimed to be an alien. “I don’t think you want to drive up there on your own this time of year.”

Mulder made a face. “Look, we’re both adults and we’re both experienced drivers. All we need is a four-wheel drive for about a week,” he tried to convince her, but she looked anything but cooperative.

“What you need, sir, is a guide. There’s snow up there right now. It’s much more advisable to have a guide. And if you’re not interested in being shown around, he can take you up there and pick you up again the week after if that’s what you want. But it’s best if someone knows where you are up there and can get help if necessary,” she insisted, her tone of voice letting him know that there was no room for arguments.

“Is this some kind of law?” Scully broke in. So far, she had kept her mouth shut and waited for Mulder to deal with this, but it was obvious he couldn’t and she didn’t really like the idea of them going up there on their own with nobody around knowing where they were.

“Not a written one, but we strongly advise tourists to go with a guide. The area is treacherous during summer time. During autumn, it doesn’t get better, if you know what I mean,” the woman, identified as Jill Hoover by her name badge, told Scully.

“Well, then we’ll go with a guide,” Scully decided, cutting Mulder off before he could start arguing again.

Miss Hoover nodded with relief painted all over her face and left the desk to find a guide for them.

Mulder gave Scully a scowl. “We don’t need a guide,” he told her firmly.

“Yes, we do,” she argued.

“We’re not tourists,” he insisted. “We’re FBI agents. We can find our way around.”

“You could get lost in a phone booth when it comes to a forest, Mulder. And I have no clue which way to turn. We need a guide. Period,” she decided, a set expression on her face. The fact was that she was rather capable of finding her way in most situations, but that was beside the point right now.

Mulder pursed his lips. He knew she was right. Not about his sense of direction, which he happened to think was top notch, thank you very much, but that they might need someone to know where they were heading. Just in case. Better safe than sorry, he figured. Eventually, he nodded. “Okay, you win,” he grumbled, not wanting to let her know that he did agree.

“This is not a contest, Mulder. This is about being as safe as we can be without having to drag a babysitter around after us,” she replied quietly.

He knew she was getting back at him for dragging her up here without prior notice and he didn’t really mind that she bit back. In fact, he would have been quite disappointed if she hadn’t been decidedly snippy about the whole affair. It wouldn’t have been like her to brush it off and carry on as if nothing had happened. “I hope you brought your mittens,” he said and gave her a grin.

Scully rolled her eyes and refrained from sighing too deeply. “I hope you brought yours. Frostbite is the last thing you want to get if we’re alone up there for a week,” she replied and gave him a sarcastic smile.

* * *

**Near Duncan Lake**

Their guide, a young man ironically named Stan Winter, drove them as far as he could go and finally brought the four-wheel drive to a stop on the shoulder of the road. Scully looked out at the forest for a long moment and thanked whatever deity would hear her that there at least was no snow out there. Not that this improved matters a lot. It was cold and they were not heading toward a building with heaters and comfort. With an inward sigh, she turned her attention to her partner, who was also staring out at the forest. She could tell he was excited about this.

“I still don’t think this is such a good idea,” Stan said, a concerned expression on his face. “It’s going to get damned cold tonight and if the weather forecast is right, there may even be snow. Are you sure you want to go out there?” he asked and turned his attention to Mulder. He could sense with no great difficulty that this was Mulder’s idea and not Scully’s. Mulder merely nodded. “I could come back tonight and pick you up again. Take you to a motel or something,” he went on.

Scully was about to agree wholeheartedly to that, but Mulder cut her off. “No, just come back next Friday and pick us up again right here. We’ll be waiting,” he said and pushed the door open.

A breeze of cold air hit Scully and a shiver ran through her. Stan glanced at her, noting her reluctance to leave the relative warmth of the car, and gave her a smile. “Are you sure?” he asked her.

This time she sighed out loud. “No, but I follow him where he goes,” she replied, the remark meant to be sarcastic.

“You must really love him,” Stan said, admiration in his voice.

Stunned, Scully turned to face him. “We work together,” she said. “We’re professional partners.” Unwilling to answer any further questions, she slipped out of the car and joined Mulder at the rear to get her backpack. He helped her into it and gave her a crooked grin which made her wonder whether he had heard Stan’s remark. Scully stared at him for a moment and briefly allowed her mind to wander paths it had never taken before. Tightly locked doors started to creak open and she pushed those thoughts aside as quickly as she could. That was dangerous ground and she was unwilling to deal with the consequences of such a mind-trip just yet.

“Ready for our great adventure?” Mulder asked with a smirk.

Scully made a face. “Let’s just go out there and see what we can find,” she replied, then suddenly thought of something. “Oh, and Mulder, I hope for your sake that you know how to build a fire,” she added and almost relished the somewhat stunned expression that slipped over his face. With his fear of fire, she knew he had no clue how to start a fire and had probably not even thought about that before leaving Washington. Turning to fully face him, she propped her hands on her hips and gave him a glare. “Don’t tell me you don’t even have matches on you,” she warned him.

The surprise was still there, but it had more or less been replaced by a scowl. He was on to her. “Now, what would I be doing with matches, Scully? I don’t smoke,” he told her in a slightly aggressive tone of voice.

“Neither do I. But I did have the sense to pack some,” she countered instantly, triumphant in her knowledge that she had pulled one over on him.

Stan Winter watched them banter for a moment, then shook his head. In his humble opinion, it was obvious to anybody that these two were in love. He would have thought they were married, too, considering the way they talked to each other. “Well, I’ll be back Friday, then. The two-way radio I gave you is long range and you should be able to reach me if you don’t go too far up,” he said.

“We’ll stick to the trail,” Mulder promised.

Scully gave him a sour glance. She hadn’t known him for this long without learning how to read the subtle tones to his voice and he certainly didn’t sound like he had any intention of sticking to the trail. But Stan seemed to believe him.

“Well, happy hiking, then. See you in seven days,” he said, got back into the car after Mulder had slammed the trunk lid shut and drove off.

It was first then that it really dawned on Scully what they were in the process of doing and she had major second thoughts. In fact, if she’d had the two-way radio on her, she would have called Stan back right that instant and gone back home.

Mulder pulled a completely new compass out of his pocket and turned it back and forth a few times, then focussed on the forest ahead of them. “Well, Scully, I think we should start walking. According to the map there’s a cabin... that way,” he said, pointing somewhat vaguely into the forest.

Scully grabbed the map out of his hand and stared at it for a second. Then she looked up at the sky. “No, we go that way,” she said and pointed to the left of the direction he had indicated. “Otherwise we’ll end up back down in town,” she added and smiled sweetly at him. “Besides, that’s where the trail is,” she went on and nodded toward the obvious beginning of the trail.

Mulder raised an eyebrow. “You see why I need you on this trip?” he asked.

“Yeah, you’d go missing in a phone booth,” she shot back, re-adjusted her backpack and started walking.

With a somewhat puzzled smile on his lips, Mulder watched her walk ahead of him for a moment. Then he grinned and followed her.

* * *

**On the trail**

They walked rather quickly at first, but slowed down after some time while still making good speed. Scully was getting fairly hot with her weather proofed gear on and figured her concern about getting cold was unfounded for now. It was chilly, but it sure wasn’t cold enough for snow, she figured. The weather forecast had been wrong.

“So, what do you think we’ll find up here?” she asked after they had both remained silent for a good long time.

“Bigfoot,” Mulder replied. He had his thumps hooked into the shoulder straps of his backpack and had been keeping his eyes on the trail. “That’s what I think we’ll find up there. If we’re lucky. Don’t you think it’s exciting to go looking for a species nobody thinks exists?”

Scully smiled. “Not nobody. There is actually a surprisingly high number of people out there who believe in Bigfoot. Personally I can’t say that I give the notion much credit, but then again... I’ve seen stranger things over the past many years.”

Mulder stopped so abruptly that she bumped into him. Turning to face her, he gave her a mock-surprised look. “Scully, are you becoming a believer here?” he asked and shuddered theatrically. “You’re giving me goose bumps.”

She looked up into his eyes for a moment, then made a face. “That’s not all I’ll give you if you don’t start moving again,” she warned him.

He grinned broadly and picked up his pace again. The friendly banter between them was something he couldn’t imagine being without. Although he hadn’t allowed himself to give the whole situation deeper thought, he couldn’t get the thought out of his head that maybe they were moving up to the next level. He would never voice such thoughts out loud, considering that Scully probably didn’t think of it that way at all, but it had been nagging him for a while and he knew himself well enough to realize that he would try to find an answer to that question. Even if he did it subconsciously.

Just before dusk, they reached a clearing and the promised cabin. Scully was overly delighted to find that not only did it have a door and two beds, it also had a well-stocked fireplace, a well-stocked pantry of dried and canned food, and access to water inside. It was obvious that this trail was used by hikers a lot. She just figured they used it in the summer time and not when there was snow on the horizon. There was even an outhouse and although she couldn’t claim to be a fan of such facilities, it was better than nothing. After a few tries, she managed to get a roaring fire going in the fireplace and relished the waves of heat radiating out into the one big room that made out the cabin.

Mulder had settled down on the bed furthest from the fire and watched it almost suspiciously for a while. “It looks nice,” he said after a moment.

Scully, who was sitting cross-legged on the floor in front of the fireplace, glanced back at him. “It is nice,” she agreed and turned around a little to better face him. “Where does this fear of fire come from?” she wanted to know and couldn’t help wondering if he would tell her or not. “I mean, I have a great deal of respect for this element, but I wouldn’t say I’m afraid of it.”

Mulder looked past her at the flickering flames for a moment. “I can’t remember what incident might have invoked that fear. All I know is that my ‘respect’ goes a little deeper than yours,” he said and focused on her. “I’m not afraid of that,” he added and waved a hand toward the fire. “I just don’t like it when it’s out of control.”

Unable not to, Scully smiled at that comment. “Nobody likes fire out of control,” she claimed.

“Not true. Pyromaniacs do,” he replied instantly and moved closer to the fireplace. He eventually sat down beside her on the floor. “There’s something... alive about it,” he added with obvious unease.

“It is alive. In a sense. But it’s not a conscious thing. I mean, it’s not like it decides it wants to burn down a house,” she theorised, well aware that he knew that, too.

“Just seems like it’s got a life of its own sometimes,” he stated. “As it were, I am not going to worry about staying warm as long as you’re around to build the fire,” he added and gave her a crooked grin.

That made her chuckle out loud. “Well, G-man, let’s get some sleep. I think we should set out early tomorrow so we can reach the next cabin on the trail before it gets dark,” she said and rose. “Need a hand?” she asked and reached her right one out to him.

Mulder gave it a strange look, then glanced up at her. “I may be older than you, but I’m not that old,” he said and got up without her support.

* * *

**First campsite  
The following morning**

With the rays of the early morning sun came the first, frail twitters of birds. A light mist clung to the ground and small, isolated banks of fog hung close to the damp earth of the small clearing the cabin stood in. Scully stood just outside the door, clad in hiking-boots, ski socks, jeans and a big, warm sweater over her long-sleeved turtleneck sweater. She had her hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee and just stood there and watched the sun come up and heard the forest come to life around her. And it made her smile. Maybe it hadn’t been such a bad idea to come here after all, she mussed.

Just then she heard the door click open and shut again and knew that her partner was up, too. He stepped up behind her, once again completely ignoring her personal space by standing so close to her, that she could feel the heat radiating off him. “What are you doing out here?” he asked and glanced around.

“Just enjoying the morning. What about you? You were sound asleep not five minutes ago,” she claimed, not bothering to look back.

With a hearty yawn, he ran both hands through his hair and then placed them on her shoulders. “Well, with that smell of coffee, who can sleep?” he replied. “And your moseying about. You’re not exactly quiet in the morning, are you?”

Scully felt the need to jab a elbow into his ribs, but couldn’t be bothered when it came down to it. “I do not make noise in the morning. And what’s wrong with my coffee?” she demanded in a huffy tone of voice.

Mulder gave her shoulders a squeeze. “Shhh,” he shushed her. “Enjoy the morning. In a minute it’ll be over,” he added in a whisper.

Although his words made her role her eyes, she couldn’t be bothered to reply in kind. It was still too early for that kind of verbal banter. Instead she ignored his personal space and leaned back against him. His response to that was neither hesitation nor surprise. He simply slipped his arms around her and rested his chin on the top of her head and they just stood like that for a while, enjoying the sounds of the wildlife out there and the fresh smells of a forest in the early morning.

* * *

**Back on the trail**

An hour later, they were back on the trail, walking with good speed and enjoying the suddenly mild autumn weather. The sun was warm on their backs, the wind was meek and they both felt like nothing could go wrong on a day like that.

“Now, is this something or what?” Mulder asked and came to a stop to take a deep breath of the fresh air. “If for nothing else, we’ve had some time away from the city,” he added and glanced over his shoulder at Scully, who had come to a stop right behind him.

“That’s for sure. And for that reason alone I forgive you,” she replied and gave him a crooked smile.

Smirking, he started walking again. “Why, that’s so sweet of you,” he said in a mocking tone of voice.

Scully merely continued to smile and walked on behind him.

Despite the fact that they made good speed, it started to get dark before they were even close to the next campsite. Mulder blamed himself. They had stopped for too long to have lunch in the form of sandwiches on a small rise, which had given them a perfect view of the surrounding forest. On top of everything, heavy rain clouds were pulling over the sky, blocking out any light they might have received from the moon or the stars.

* * *

**Later that day**

Just before the last rays of the sun disappeared, Mulder stopped to take another look at the map. “I don’t get it,” he said, sounding a little confused. “According to this damned map we should have been there by now.”

Scully stepped up beside him and squinted at the map. “We shouldn’t have had lunch for that long,” she said, voicing his thoughts of earlier. “Maybe we took a wrong turn somewhere,” she then suggested and glanced up at Mulder.

Mulder tapped the map. “There’s only one trail,” he said and looked down at the obvious trail they were on. “How could we take a wrong turn away from the trail if we’re still on it?”

“Maybe there are other trails that are not on the map,” Scully hinted.

“You’ve got an answer for everything, don’t you?” he replied. Tapping the map again, he indicated where they had been. “That’s were we were. There’s a ravine all along this trail,” he said and waved out to the side where the edge of the ravine was very obvious. “There’s the ravine,” he said needlessly.

Scully looked up at him, wondering why this posed as such a great problem to him, and then she sighed. “Let’s just push on, then. We ought to get there in a little while. It’s no big deal,” she claimed.

“No big deal?” Mulder asked, a look of surprise on his face. Waving toward the sky, he indicated the dense cloud cover. “In about thirty minutes time, the sun’s gone completely, Scully. The sky’s covered. It’ll be completely dark.”

She still failed to see what the problem really was and it made her slightly uneasy that he was responding to this situation that way. “Mulder, we have our flashlights. Okay, so we won’t get there as quickly as we might like to, but we will get there,” she insisted. “What’s the problem?” she then wanted to know.

For a long moment, he just stood there, eyes on the map, a scowl on his face, then he sighed. “Okay, let’s get moving. Maybe we can make it before it gets too dark,” he finally said, folded up the map and stuffed it into his pocket.

Before Scully could say another word, he started moving again and she had to hurry to keep up with him. And through it all she still failed to understand why he was reacting this way. It wasn’t like him. Realization of what the reason could be made her quicken her step to get up beside him. “What aren’t you telling me?” she demanded.

Mulder plodded on, eyes on the ever-darkening trail, and tried to come up with a way to tell her what he knew without upsetting her too much. She should have read the whole report, he thought. “It’s just...” he began, but trailed off again. How could he tell her without risking the full fury of her wrath? He had once again withheld information from her. And that even after he had promised to fill her in.

“Just what?” Scully asked, a slight tone of warning in her voice.

“Well, the reason for that I got Skinner to accept this as an actual case is because seven hikers have vanished up here. All presumed to have been taken by whatever is lurking out there,” he rattled off, afraid to do this the nice way.

As if she had hit an invisible brick wall, Scully stopped. Mulder did, too, well aware that he was facing one hell of a shitstorm when she let lose. “Vanished?” she asked, her tone full of disbelief. “You knew about this the whole time and you didn’t bother to tell me?”

“It’s in the report. You should have read the whole thing,” he tried to defend himself, knowing it was a futile act.

“Oh no,” she sputtered. “You do not pin this on me. Not a chance, mister. You should have told me. You give me no notice, no warning. And now you spring this on me? Even after you promised to fill me in? What the hell is the matter with you, Mulder?” She was angry. And she was afraid, too. To be hiking through a pitch-dark forest in the middle of nowhere, Canada, and know that there was an animal out there grabbing hikers and doing God-knew-what to them made her skin crawl. It very much reminded her of that detour they had done a while back. That case about the invisible moth men. “I knew this was a bad idea. I knew it,” she huffed. “I should have stayed at home. But no, I have to go running after you wherever the hell you choose to go,” she went on, turned and started marching up the trail.

Mulder swallowed hard. He knew he’d had this coming, but having her this angry with him made him very uncomfortable. “Scully, wait up,” he called and hurried after her. “I know you’re pissed and you’ve got every reason to be, but...” he tried, but she cut him off by turning around and starting back toward him, her anger almost visible in the darkness.

“Pissed? You think I’m only pissed? I’ll tell you what I am. I’m...” she started while taking another step toward him and disappeared.

Mulder stopped short, dumbfounded by the fact that she had simply vanished into thin air right in front of him. But then he heard the sound of branches breaking and her yelping and then something hit the ground somewhere beneath in the ravine with a crash and the terrible truth of what had just happened dawned on him. “Oh shit,” he snapped and, waving his flashlight back and forth over the ground, searched for the place where she had disappeared. There was a rift in the ground and when he stepped closer, he could see into the ravine from there. It was more or less a straight fall. One she could have avoided if she hadn’t been so angry with him. “Scully?” he called, afraid that he wouldn’t get an answer. And he didn’t get one. Cold sweat broke out all over his body at the thought of what her silence could mean. “SCULLY?” he called louder and stepped closer to the edge of the rift while shining his flashlight down through the thicket she had crashed through. “Can you hear me?” Nothing but silence answered him. “Oh shit,” he then repeated. Waving his flashlight around almost erratically, he searched for a way down while stepping back from the rift. He didn't want to end up down there beside her, unable to move or do anything to help her. That would really be a joke, he thought.

He had to go pretty far up the trail to find a way down and it was still steep enough to give him the willies when he climbed down, holding onto tree trunks and branches for support. In his mind it took forever to reach the bottom of the ravine and the darkness was virtually complete down there. With shaking hands, his pulse thumping away in his throat, and the flashlight clamped between his teeth, he struggled down the steep incline until he reached the bottom. Once there, he took a second to find his bearings, then started back toward the place where Scully had fallen.

“SCULLY?” he called again, hoping that she was aware enough to answer him. The underbrush was pretty dense in the ravine, making it difficult for him to follow the edge to be able to find his way back to where she had hit the ground. But he managed and eventually, something brightly yellow caught in the ray of the flashlight, identifying her jacket. He pushed the last few feet through branches and vines and dropped down on his knees beside her. She was unconscious, but still breathing. Running the flashlight over her, he searched for any obvious injuries, but didn’t get further than her waist because she suddenly groaned and moved.

“Oh,” she moaned and turned her head a little before opening her eyes. Blinking, she looked up at him.

“Are you okay?” he asked, unable to keep the relief out of his voice. He had feared the worst.

She assessed her situation for a moment, taking in all the aches she could feel and found that she was basically just one big bruise. “I don’t know,” she admitted and raised her head off the ground. In the process, she shifted her body a little and that caused her to let out a yelp of pain and grab for her right leg. “My leg,” she groaned.

Mulder shone the flashlight in that general direction and the breath caught in his throat when he thereby illuminated her right leg. It was twisted out to one side, probably broken. “Oh shit.”

Scully raised her head again and, gritting her teeth, eyed her leg for a moment. “You’re gonna have to set it for me,” she pressed out and let her head drop again.

If she had dropped a ten ton bolder on top of him he couldn’t have been more surprised. Even though he knew how serious a fracture like that could be, it hadn’t occurred to him that she might ask him to do that. “What?” he asked and glanced back at her twisted leg. It looked like the leg of a rag doll. “You can’t be serious, Scully. I have no idea how to set a broken leg,” he said and turned back to face her.

Scully breathed in a few times to steady herself. The initial shock of the fall had definitely worn off and she felt the throb of her leg with every ounce of her being. Swallowing hard, she briefly closed her eyes, then focused on her partner. “It might not be broken. But if it is and you don’t set it, there are two ways this can go. Scenario one,” she stated, her voice wavering with the effort she put into speaking normally, “you don’t set it, I survive, but I will never be able to walk properly again. Scenario two, I get blood poisoning and die or I die of shock.” The increasingly ashen complexion of her partner made her consider that now wasn’t the time for morbid details. “If you don’t set it, you can’t move me. If you don’t move me, I die,” she added despite her mental concern and then took a moment to regain her breath. “I’ll guide you through it. I’ll tell you what to do. First thing you have to do is check for fractures. Check if it’s a compound fracture?”

He swallowed and glanced back down at her leg. “Compound fracture?” he asked. He knew what it meant, but he couldn’t think straight.

Scully wasn’t in the mood to be civil. “Is the bone sticking out?” she hissed. “Is there blood?”

Decidedly nervous, he cleared his throat and moved closer to her twisted leg. “Uhm... none that I can see,” he said, shining the flashlight over the knee-area. “And there doesn’t seem to be anything sticking out anywhere,” he added.

“Feel it,” she commanded.

Mulder glanced at her, aware that this was going to hurt her, and then he sighed. “Okay,” he said and reluctantly reached out to touch her leg. He felt lightly over it, searching for anything abnormal apart from the fact that the lower part of her leg was definitely twisted in a wrong direction. She hissed only once when he touched her. “No, doesn’t feel like it to me,” he said after a moment. He wasn’t quite sure, though. His hand was shaking pretty badly by the time he pulled it back and his fingers felt numb either from the strain of the climb to the bottom of the ravine or from the cold, which was beginning to make itself known by seeping through his clothes.

Scully eyed him for a moment, actually managing to briefly forget her pain. It would seem that he was in deeper shock than she was. “Just take it easy,” she advised him. “This is what I need you to do. Put one hand on my knee and with the other you grab my ankle. Use your instincts when you move it back into place. You’ll know when it feels right. Once you’ve done that, you need to splint it. Find some branches or whatever and tie them evenly around my leg as far up as you can. The joint must be kept steady.”

“Can we take one thing at a time?” he asked, nervously licking his lips.

“No, because when you move my leg, I’m likely to pass out,” she countered immediately.

With his eyes glued to her leg, he wondered if he would be able to pull this one off. He had been up against the weirdest things in the world, but the thought of having to cause Scully pain made him queasy. “Oh shit,” he mumbled again.

Scully could tell that this wasn’t something he wanted to do. And she wasn’t particularly fond of the idea either. But she knew what the result was if her leg wasn’t set. Feeling odd about it since she felt she was the one who needed the comfort, she grabbed his left hand. “You’ll do fine, Mulder. But you have to do this. The longer you wait, the worse the trauma to my leg is going to get,” she told him as calmly as she was able to.

He took a moment to compose himself and his old rational self finally broke through the cloud of panic which had swept him when he had realized she’d fallen. Then he nodded. “Yeah, of course. I’m sorry, Scully. I feel responsible,” he finally said and gave her a crooked smile.

Glad that he was back on track, she sighed and closed her eyes for a moment. “You’re not. I lost my temper. I should have looked where I was going,” she replied and then finally released his arm. “Let’s do this before it gets too bad,” she added with a shaking voice, steeling herself against the pain.

“Right,” he said. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry if I hurt you,” he added, placed his left hand on her knee and grabbed her ankle with his right. He knew that doing this slowly would hurt her even more, so he decided to get it over with as quickly as possible. When he started moving her leg, he was rather surprised that all she uttered was a repressed sigh before she passed out. He was certain that he himself would have screamed his head off if he had been in the same situation. But, then again, she always had been the more controlled one. Keeping his mind in a clinical mode, he pushed her leg back into place and could almost feel the bone ends meet. Although it was hard to feel through the fabric of her jeans, he searched for the fracture and couldn’t feel it. Hopefully that meant that everything was in the right place.

Feeling decidedly unhappy about the whole thing, he wiped the back of one hand over his lips. “Branches,” he mumbled to himself and looked around. Fortunately, there were plenty of those around. And he had some nylon rope in his backpack, too. With that in mind, he pulled his Swiss Army knife from one pocket and went in search of the right length of branches to use as splints.

Five branches and a coil of nylon rope later, he leaned back a little to eye his handiwork critically. He didn’t know if it was good enough, but it would have to do until she came around again and told him one or the other. With a sigh, he rose to his feet and arched his back. On his knees, he had been leaning over her for whatever length of time it had taken to cut and break the branches into the right size and then tie it all down and it had taken its toll on him. Glancing around him, he figured he wasn’t done straining his back, though. There was no way they could stay in this ravine, so he would have to find a way to get Scully to the next campsite. He had no idea how far away it was or how he was going to get her out of the ravine, though. With a sigh, he hunkered down next to her to take a moment to think things through while looking around him in the pitch-dark night with the light of the flashlight roaming over the surrounding area.

“Shit,” he mumbled after a bit and rose again. He couldn’t carry her and the backpacks and he had no intention of trying to find his way back to the backpacks after having carried her for heaven knew how far. The chance that he wouldn’t find them again was too big and he just knew he’d be too tired. “Guess I’d better rig up a stretcher somehow,” he went on. He wasn’t in the habit of talking to himself aloud, but the situation wasn’t quite ordinary.

Using his imagination to come up with a plan, he eventually managed to put together a usable stretcher made of branches from the surrounding trees. He used the rest of the nylon rope to tie them together and to make a harness he could use to pull the whole contraption. With some effort, he managed to get Scully onto it and used her sleeping bag to cover her with so she wouldn’t get cold. It wasn’t exactly warm and the more the night progressed, the colder it got. His breath accumulated in front of his face in a cloud of vapor every time he exhaled.

He arranged it so that her backpack served as support for her injured leg and then he set out, dragging the stretcher behind him as he went. It was tough going and he soon felt fatigue sneaking up on him. But he didn’t allow himself to stop and rest for a bit. He was afraid he might not be able to start again if he did.

The further he walked, the more difficult it became to pull the stretcher and sweat was virtually pouring off him despite the rising chill. It was pretty cold by then and he wondered how far he had gone when he suddenly broke through the trees and the thicket and found himself in the clearing of the next campsite. Stunned, he came to a stop and blinked wearily up at a now clear, star filled sky. It took him a moment to realize that the reason for that it had been so difficult to pull the stretcher had been because he was going up hill. With all his concentration on avoiding getting tangled in the thicket and just moving on, he hadn’t noticed that small detail. And apparently the ravine ended up at the campsite.

Grateful for small favors, he pushed on and could finally drop his burden outside the cabin, which would serve as their shelter until he could get help for Scully.


	2. Chapter 2

**Second campsite  
Sometime later**

It was the dryness in her mouth more than anything that brought her back to the land of the living. Her eyes felt as if they were full of sand and glued shut and she had a bad taste in her mouth. Her tongue felt like sandpaper and her throat was utterly dry. At some point she figured she had uttered a sound of some kind, because a cool hand touched her brow and a somewhat timid voice said her name.

She didn’t even try to think clearly. Somehow, she knew that she wouldn’t feel better if she did. Instead, she took her time waking up properly and slowly became aware of her body, of the aches and pains, of the memory how she had gotten all those aches and pains. The worst was yet to come, she knew. Her leg. It was probably broken. She remembered that clearly. Who could forget the excruciating pain of having a broken limb set? But for now, she didn’t feel it. Nothing but a slow, not entirely unpleasant throb.

Mulder brushed a stubborn strand of hair off her brow again and regarded her full of worry. “Scully?” he tried again.

Finally, she opened her eyes and blinked up at Mulder for a moment. Then she slowly glanced around the cabin. “Where are we?” she asked hoarsely.

“The second campsite,” he replied, relief washing over him like a tidal wave at seeing her awake and realizing that she was also coherent. “How are you feeling?”

Scully tried to assess her own condition, then sighed and briefly closed her eyes. “Like I’ve been run over by a steamroller. Could I have some water?” she said after a moment

“Sure. Hang on,” he replied and reached out for the canteen he had only recently filled with water from the outside well. “Here you go,” he added and slipped a hand behind her head to help her drink.

Scully however took the canteen away from him. “I hurt my leg, not my back,” she told him somewhat sternly and took a swig of water. “Don’t baby me,” she added and let her head drop back down on the pillow.

“I wasn’t babying you,” he tried to defend himself. “I just figured you might need some help.”

Aware that her attitude wasn’t the best because of the discomfort she was in, she briefly closed her eyes and sighed once more. “Sorry. I’m not feeling my best,” she apologized.

Even though he knew that she wasn’t accusing him, he accepted the blame. “Don’t I know it,” he replied with an awkward smile on his lips.

It took her a while before she was able to gather enough strength to push herself up on her elbows and take a look at her splinted leg. It hurt, but not as badly as she had thought it would. Regarding it for a while, she said nothing. Then she glanced at her partner. “That’s pretty good for someone who has no idea how to splint a leg,” she said.

It made his smile a little more sincere. “Doesn’t change the fact that I caused this, though,” he replied and made a face.

Scully considered her reply to that one very carefully. Sure, she was in pain and there was a part of her that did blame him for her fall, but in the end, it all came down to her losing her temper. By now, she should have known better than to blow up over nothing. “Did you push me?” she asked and looked up at him with a serious expression on her face.

Mulder jerked at that question and met her gaze somewhat unsteadily. “No,” he said, not sure where she was heading with that question.

“Did you trip me?” she asked on, her tone becoming more intense. Again he denied, a little startled. “Then why the hell do you think it was your fault? I was the one who flew off the handle. I was the one who didn’t look where I was going. I should know better by now. You’ve never filled me in and I guess you never will. After six years of being partners, you’d think I’d learned that fact. But I forget sometimes. And then I do something stupid like this,” she tried to explain. “This is not your fault. If anybody is to blame, it’s me. I took a wrong step. You were nowhere near me when I fell. So stop blaming yourself, okay?”

For a moment, he just sat there, that stunned look still in his eyes, and then he nodded. “Sure,” he finally agreed, beginning to see that she was right. “But...” he began, but she cut him off.

“No buts. There’s nothing more to talk about. Did you try the radio?” she asked, waving a hand at him. One thing had started to nag her and she couldn’t quite put a finger on it. It sprang mainly from the fact that she firmly believed a traumatic injury like the one she had sustained should have hurt more than it did.

“Well... yeah, but there was no reply. I’ll try taking it further down the trail. Maybe the reception is better further down,” he said, happily grasping the opportunity to talk about something other than who was to blame for what.

Scully nodded thoughtfully. She wasn’t bemoaning the lack of pain, but it worried her nonetheless. Maybe the nerves in her leg had been damaged, she mused and pushed herself up on her elbows again. Without further ado, she poked her upper thigh and found the skin to be numb. She couldn’t feel the poke on her leg. “Something’s wrong,” she said, worried now.

“What? Does it hurt now?” Mulder wanted to know, concerned again.

“No. That’s what’s wrong. I couldn’t even feel the pressure,” she replied, then suddenly caught on to what he had said. With a frown, she looked at him. “Now?” she asked. “What do you mean, now?”

The somewhat bossy tone to her voice made him worry even more. “Well... I... gave you a shot of that painkiller you carry around with you. So you wouldn’t be in any pain when you woke up,” he said somewhat hesitantly.

That thought had not crossed her mind at all and the thought of having to endure excruciating pain once the shot wore off made her swallow hard as she sank back down on the pillow. “Oh shit,” she mumbled and draped an arm over her face.

“Was that wrong?” he asked, afraid he may have worsened her condition somehow.

“No, not wrong,” she replied after a moment and let her arm slip off her face up over her head. “I just thought...” she tried, but trailed off with a light shake of the head. “I thought the injury wasn’t that bad and that was why it didn’t hurt, really. How long ago did you give me the shot of lidocaine,” she finally continued.

Mulder glanced at his watch. “Oh, about... an hour ago, I think.”

She sighed again and rubbed both palms over her face. “That gives me a few more hours of relative painlessness. I suppose you used the whole thing?” she asked on and looked back up at him.

“No, not the whole thing. Only half of it. Damn, I’m sorry, Scully. I didn’t think... well... I just didn’t want you to suffer when you woke up. I figured if you had that time, it might get better before the painkiller wore off. You know?” He once again looked guilt-stricken, once again feeling that he was to blame for everything.

“I know,” she said and smiled a little. “And I appreciate the sentiment, Mulder. I really do. You’ve given me a little time to get used to the idea. That won’t make bearing the pain any easier, though. But, we’ll deal with that when we get to it. Just don’t give me any more injections until it’s absolutely necessary. I can’t assess the level of pain I’m in if I’m sedated,” she explained. “I need to know if the bone is broken, and if it is, if it’s set properly and I can’t do when I can’t feel.”

“Okay, I get the point,” he said and glanced at the window. “It’s getting light out there,” he added as if on second thought. “Maybe you should just rest a bit. I’ll take the radio down the trail and see if I can’t raise somebody. We should be out of here by midday.”

Scully nodded her consent. “Good idea,” she told him.

* * *

The sky was clear blue and there was not a cloud in sight. Birds sang, the underbrush rustled and all breathed peace. If it hadn’t been for the fact that his partner lay inside that cabin with a broken leg, Mulder would have enjoyed this trip to the woods. They’d gone on similar trips before and, come to think of it, those trips seemingly always ended in disaster. Making a face, Mulder pulled the two-way radio from his backpack and started down the trail they should have come in on. “Seems like a hint to me,” he mumbled to himself. “Stay out of the woods,” he added with a grim smile and turned the radio on. “Winter, this is Mulder. Do you read me?" he tried and released the call button. All that answered him was static. "Stan Winter, this is Fox Mulder calling. Do you read?" he tried again while walking briskly along the trail. Again he released the button and again nothing answered him but static.

He walked further down the trail, came to a stop, tried to raise someone again and got only static again. Continuing his trek down the trail, he occasionally stopped to try and raise Winter or someone else, but got nothing. Eventually, he started turning the frequency dial after having jotted down where it had been and tried other channels with the same lack of luck.

After walking for nearly an hour, he stopped again and glanced around him. Time to go back. Scully would be worried and he didn’t want her to be alone when the painkiller wore off. He tried once more and cursed silently when static was the only reply once again. “Shit, shit, shit,” he hissed and mostly felt like tossing the no-good piece of electronics into the bushes. He didn’t, though. Instead he clipped it to his belt, turned around and started back the way he’d come.

* * *

Scully had rested, as Mulder had suggested she should, but she woke up a while after he had left with the intensifying throb of her knee filling her world. The lidocaine was wearing off and she just knew she’d have one hell of a time if she didn’t find a way to subdue the pain without the use of drugs.

Gingerly, she sat up and gently massaged her thigh above the fracture, hoping against hope that relaxing the muscle would make it easier on her. But she had no such luck. With every passing minute, the pain increased until it was a fiery inferno throbbing away in her knee, threatening to deprive her of all sense and reason. She would have thought that the pain would have lessened after she had kept her leg still for so long, but then she remembered that she had been out all the time it had taken Mulder to get her to this cabin and onto this bed. She had no idea how much he might have jostled her leg during that trip.

Apart from the distant twittering of birds outside, she could hear nothing. Mulder had said he would go down the trail and see if he couldn’t raise someone, but she couldn’t for the life of her understand why he was gone so long. With a glance at her watch, she gritted her teeth against the pain, which seemed to intensify all the time even though she wouldn’t have thought that was possible.

At that point, she was no longer massaging her leg. She was digging the fingers of her right hand into her thigh while trying to break the frame of the bed with her left. “God damn it,” she hissed through clenched teeth, trying desperately to find a way to circumvent the pain. And then her roaming eyes fell on her med kit lying on top of her backpack, which stood leaning against the wall. On top of the med kit lay the syringe with the vial of lidocaine she made it a point always to have on her. And the whole thing was way out of her reach. “Aw, no,” she groaned. If she moved, she would probably kill herself with the pain. If she didn’t, she would go insane. She opted for a third option. “MULDER!” she yelled, hoping that somehow he would hear her and hurry back. “MULDER, I NEED YOU.”

* * *

Mulder briefly stopped to tie the laces of his right hiking boot and once again glanced at his watch. He had been gone nearly one and a half hours. With an odd need to hurry, he got up again and walked on. Scully had said that she would have peace a few more hours before the painkiller wore off, but he wasn’t so sure all of a sudden. She had said that, believing that he’d injected the entire content of that vial into her. He’d only given her half, which naturally would reduce the length of the effect.

But he knew Scully well enough to not blow this out of proportions, so he didn’t hurry needlessly. She would tan his hide if he came barging in, all upset she might be in pain. He didn’t walk slowly, but he wasn’t walking too fast, either.

Eventually, he could see the clearing up ahead with the round stone well in the middle with its little roof and the cabin across from it, looking all cozy and serene in the late morning sun. This looked like taken out of a fairytale. “And it would be, too, if it hadn’t been for that fall,” he told himself quietly and quickened his step. The nagging feeling that he should hurry was still there.

Pushing the door open, he put on an apologetic smile. “Hi, I’m back. I think I walked halfway back to the first campsite before...” he began, but came to an abrupt stop, when she turned her head to face him. Her skin was glistening with sweat and she was pale as a ghost. “Jesus, Scully. Are you okay?” he exclaimed, knowing what a stupid question that was since she obviously was anything but okay.

“No, I am not,” she pressed out. “Give me that damned syringe. Now,” she added, her voice slightly hoarse and breaking with tension. Tears cruised down her face, leaving red streaks on her otherwise pale skin.

He hurried to carry out her demand and quickly injected the remainder of the painkiller into her leg. Then he took her hand and let her squeeze the hell out of it until the medication finally took effect. She started breathing a little more normally and not in those shallow, hollow gasps through clenched teeth. Gently, he brushed her sweat soaked hair away from her brow. “Feeling better?” he asked her quietly when she closed her eyes.

“Yes,” she whispered and opened her eyes again to face him. “Where were you?”

Under any other circumstances, he would have felt utterly hurt by her accusing tone of voice, but he figured he had this one coming. “Sorry. I went down the trail, trying to raise someone. It took a little longer than I thought,” he replied, still holding her now limp hand in his as he knelt beside her cot.

She regarded him as well as she was able to in her exhausted state of mind and then closed her eyes, not wanting to see the truth in his eyes. “Please, tell me you reached somebody,” she begged him quietly.

Mulder swallowed hard. He would love to tell her just that, but that would be lying. “I’m sorry. I tried different channels with no luck. If there’s anybody out there, they weren’t listening,” he said after a moment.

“Oh God,” she groaned. She knew she would need a change of tactics if she was to survive this one without losing her mind completely. It was obvious to her that a nerve inside her leg was pinched. Otherwise it wouldn’t have hurt so badly. A fractured bone hurt, granted, but the level of pain she had just endured had been much too bad for that. To get her partner’s attention, she grabbed a handful of the sweater he was wearing and pulled him closer. “Listen to me,” she said, her voice calmer now. “I think a nerve is pinched in my knee. It can have happened when you... put it back in place. What I need you to do now is pull at my leg. I need you to try and free that pinched nerve. It’s a transverse fracture if anything. It could easily have pinched a nerve when it was put back in place.”

Mulder stared down at her for a moment, then nodded. “Okay,” he agreed without argument. He knew better than to argue with her over something like this. Instead he got busy getting the makeshift splint off her leg, a procedure she watched closely. Once he had removed that, she told him to help her get out of her jeans. He did so somewhat more reluctantly, but was aware that if this whole thing had to be over by the time the second shot of lidocaine wore off, he didn’t have any margin for arguments or silly notions. Instead, he helped her get out of the garment preventing her from seeing for herself that it wasn’t a compound fracture as she had feared it might be after all.

With a little help from Mulder, Scully eventually managed to sit up and stared somewhat darkly at her severely swollen knee, which was black and blue already. And then she chuckled. Mulder raised an eyebrow in surprise at her reaction and felt utterly confused when she started laughing and dropped back down on the cot.

Somewhat concerned about her response to seeing her knee completely discolored and swollen, he picked up the vial and studied the label. Maybe it was morphine he’d given her, he mussed, and then glanced back at her when she stopped laughing again. “I’m glad you think this is funny,” he said somewhat uncertain.

Rubbing the back of one hand over her eyes, she then turned her head a little and looked up at him. “It is. Because that’s not a fracture,” she told him, indicating her knee with one hand.

Mulder glanced at her knee. “It’s not?” he asked, surprised by that revelation.

“If it had been, it would have been a compound fracture. In other words, the bones would be sticking out and the wound would probably be in the process of going septic by now,” she explained. “I had a dislocation. I may have torn some ligaments, maybe the tendons are ripped. But there’s no fracture here.”

Still uncertain, he once again glanced at the vial in his hand, and then back at her knee before meeting her eyes again. “And that’s good?” he asked.

“You’ve had dislocations and fractures, Mulder. You should know,” she claimed, then smiled. “No wonder it hurts like hell when the painkiller wears off. I couldn’t fit it together with a fracture. If it had been a compound fracture, maybe. I’d be burning up with fever by now. But not a transverse fracture. Besides, if I had thought more clearly at the time, I would never have suspected that in the first place.”

Once again, Mulder found that he was puzzled by her words. Making a face, he tried to hide his confusion, but then settled for a frown. “Why not?” he asked her.

“Because of the angle my leg was in. If any bones had been broken, they would have been sticking out of my leg. The only plausible explanation for this one is a dislocation. It fits with the pain, too. My body is reliving the impact which has been subdued first by me being unconscious and in shock and then by the painkiller. When the second injection wears off, it won’t hurt as much,” she said. “Besides, I actually think the splint was too tight and the fabric of my jeans was pressing against the increased swelling. That hurts.”

Mulder finally got the point and nodded. “I see,” he said. “So, what do we do now? I mean, you still can’t walk,” he said.

“No,” she agreed. “And there’s still a certain amount of chance that I may get an infection if there is internal damage, which I think there is. What I need you to do to help me with this is keep my leg elevated and put cold bandages on my knee to bring the swelling down. And... most importantly, I need you to try and raise someone who can get us out of here.”

“Oh, I have no intention of stopping that,” he assured her and rose again. “Well, I guess I’d better find something we can use as bandages. The water in that well should be cold enough,” he went on and started doing all the things she had asked him to.

XXX

By the time the sun set again, Scully was as comfortable as she could get. Her knee was pulsing away with a life of its own, making it hard for her to find a good position, her back was aching from lying down so much already and she felt awkward at leaving all the work to Mulder, but had to agree with him that she could do very little.

Mulder, in turn, displayed traits she had never suspected he could have. He managed to whip up a quite eatable dinner for them from what he could find in the well-stocked pantry of the cabin and he even managed to overcome his fear of fire enough to keep them warm. She could tell that he wasn’t happy about it, but he didn’t complain and he never backed down. Scully felt grateful for that he was as stubborn as he was. Otherwise he might not have managed to get a descent fire going.

He continuously tried to reach someone on the two-way radio without much luck. There was nothing but static out there. Standing outside the door, he stared up at a star-filled sky and wondered what would happen next. Things had a tendency to go from bad to worse when he thought they were doing okay, but right now he didn’t think they were doing okay. Scully didn’t complain, but he could tell that she was in pain. He knew that tolerable to bad pain could easily cause a fever and if she got an infection in her leg, too, things would definitely go downhill fast.

* * *

The moon was almost full, hanging high in a cloud free sky, accompanied by the brighter stars. Apart from a few rustles in the underbrush now and again, no sounds was heard around the clearing. A faint column of smoke rose from the chimney of the cabin and inside, the only light came from the still glowing embers in the fireplace.

Mulder shifted on his cot, slowly coming awake because something was bothering him and he couldn’t fit it into the restless dream he was having. Running the tip of his tongue over his lips, he grumbled under his breath. Even though he wanted nothing more than go back to sleep, there was an urgent need to pay attention to his surroundings. Only when he came fully awake did he become aware of what had pulled him out of his sleep. Scully was mumbling to herself.

With a frown, Mulder propped himself up on his elbows and looked over at her. “Scully?” he asked quietly. “Are you awake?” His quiet question did nothing to hamper the flow of mumbled words he couldn’t quite make out and it made him sit up to get a better look. It was clear to him by then that she wasn’t awake, but the nagging feeling that her mumbling could stem from something other than a bad dream made him swing his legs over the edge of the cot and get up. “Scully?” he tried again and padded barefoot across the floor over to the side of her cot.

She moved her head and moaned, then continued her mumbling, which turned out to be complete rubbish from what he could tell. She was mumbling words, but in random order, making no sense at all. He eased down on the edge of the cot and placed the back of one hand against her brow. She was burning hot and her skin was moist with sweat. “Oh shit,” he mumbled, realizing instantly what that meant. “Scully?” he tried again with the same result. “I guess I’d better try to cool you down,” he then said, got up again and pulled away the blankets covering her. That made her utter an annoyed sound and grab out for the cover. “Oh no, you don’t,” he admonished her. “You need to cool down.” Set on doing just that, he returned to his own cot, pulled his socks and boots on, slipped his sweater over his head and went to open the door. A chilly breeze hit him and made him shudder for a second.

Then he picked up the water jug and went to the well to get some cold water. He had to drop the bucket onto the thin surface of ice covering the water in the well a few times before he could break it. “That should be cold enough,” he grumbled, already shivering in the chilly night.

He brought the water back to the cabin and proceeded to put cold compresses on her forehead and replace the ones around her knee, too. After donning his jacket, he proceeded to do just that for almost an hour before her temperature finally started to abate.

Her eyes opened and she blinked heavily up at him for a moment, and then hugged herself fiercely. “What are you trying to do, freeze me to death?” she inquired in a shivering voice.

Mulder smiled. “No, I’m trying to bring your temperature down. You were burning up not an hour ago,” he told her and figured it was safe enough to at least cover her up again. He was freezing, himself, his hands nearly numb because he continuously dunked them into the jug of icy water. Copying her posture by hugging himself, he buried his hands under his arms, trying to warm them up again. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’m running a fever,” she replied, her voice still shaky. “That means my leg’s infected,” she added and raised her head somewhat weakly to look down at it. But she was too dizzy to go further than that. “Damn it.”

“Yeah, you said it,” he replied and sat down on the edge of the cot again. “What now? I’m running out of ideas here,” he wanted to know, his voice nearly as shaky as hers.

Scully had closed her eyes again and just wanted to go back to sleep. “I don’t know, Mulder. Just keep on replacing the compresses. You’re doing a good job at keeping the fever and probably the infection at bay that way.”

“Glad to hear it,” he said, bemoaning the fact that he would have to continue to handle the icy water. But he said nothing. She had enough to worry about without having to worry about him getting frostbite. “Guess I’d better get some more water,” he added and got up again.

He continued his trek back and forth between the well whenever he needed fresh water, but by the time he did it for the tenth time, he had trouble holding onto the jug. He reached the well and nearly managed to drop it on the ground. “Shit,” he hissed, set it gingerly down on the ground and blew whatever hot air he could administer onto his distinctly bluish hands. He allowed himself a moment where he tried to get the feeling back in his fingers, then he wrapped his aching fingers around the rope for the bucket and lowered it into the well.

With a startled gasp, he lost his grip on the rope when Scully suddenly yelped. Swirling around, he hit the jug with his left foot and managed to trip himself over, breaking the jug at the same time as he landed flat on his face. “Ouch, damn it,” he snapped and pushed himself up again. A distinct stab of pain shot up from his left foot when he put his weight on it, but he was too preoccupied with Scully’s possible plight to pay too much attention to it, and hurried back to the cabin.

He expected that something had gone terribly wrong with her leg. He didn’t expect to see a huge, shaggy shadow hovering over her. Flabbergasted because of this odd development, he stopped short between the door and the cot, while trying desperately to make out more of the giant leaning over his partner. That proved to be a nearly fatal mistake, though. The behemoth raised its shaggy head, uttered a deep, guttural grunt and lashed out at him. There was enough power in that lash to sent him flying back out the door. He hit the ground and skittered backward over the hard, frozen ground until he hit the well hard enough with his head for him to pass out instantly. And so he didn’t hear Scully’s muttered complaints as the giant grabbed her and took off with her, leaving behind only a tuft of rough hair on a chip of the doorframe as a proof of its existence.

* * *

It was the sun as much as his aching leg that brought him around. When he opened his eyes, he felt like someone had driven red-hot spikes into them and he ripped his right arm up to block out the glaring light. While he lay there and tried to get used to the light, he assessed his body and realized that apart from a pretty damned sore spot on his head where he had collided with the well, the feeling as if he had been hit in the chest by a pile driver and the fact that his left ankle felt like it was on fire, he was fairly okay. With an effort, he finally managed to lower his arm away from his eyes and blink bleary-eyed at his surroundings. Rushing to his feet would do no good. It had still been dark when that thing had taken Scully. The sun was high in the sky now, which meant that he had been out for a few hours at least and that again meant that whatever that thing had been, it was long gone. And so was his partner.

Sitting up proved to be a fairly stupid idea, something which he realized too late. The world started spinning lazily around him and his stomach cramped up, a clear indicator that he had a concussion to top off the beginning of a not so beautiful day. It also very quickly dawned on him that he would have died of exposure if the day hadn’t been uncommonly warm for October.

With an effort, he managed to gain his feet only to nearly lose his balance and put his weight on his injured foot, which in turn intensified the already prominent gag-reflex. He tossed his cookies right there and then, unable to retain whatever little contents there still was in his stomach. When he was done, he felt marginally worse than before and knew he had to lie down. At least for a bit. There was no way he could chase after Scully in his present condition, not that he would know in which direction to go.

Straightening, he looked around, valiantly ignoring his aching self for the moment it took to scan his surroundings. Then the smell of bile invoked another violent upheaval of his innards and he tried to throw up again, finding he had nothing left to throw up from. “Oh God,” he moaned. His mouth felt like the inside of an old, dirty sock and although he had never had the dubious pleasure of tasting said garment, he could fairly well imagine that it would taste just about the same.

With something of an effort, he managed to get back to the cabin where he collapsed on the cot closest to the door. He knew he would have to do something about the headache and get something to eat if he were ever to regain his composure enough to go look for Scully. And he needed to do so desperately. The thought of having lost her to an uncertain fate made him ache even more than he did already. And it wasn’t the first time that he’d lost her, either.

He faded in and out of sleep for about two hours before he became aware enough again to realize that the door was still open and if it got dark again before he woke up fully, he would freeze. “Like I care,” he mumbled helplessly and pushed himself up on his elbows. It took him a moment to get up and he had to hopple over to the door and started to push it shut when he saw a tuft of grayish brown hair hanging on the doorframe. Frowning, his injuries and illness partially forgotten, he reached out and plucked the coarse hair from the splinter. Rolling it between his fingers, he stared at it while realization slowly set in. He didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of it when he had seen that shape looming over Scully, but right there and then, he realized that his partner had probably been taken by what they had come here to find. She had been abducted by Bigfoot.

The irony of that thought didn’t escape him. It wasn’t him they went after. He was the believer, he was the one who accepted their reality without question, both fairytale figures, urban legends and aliens alike. No, they went after the disbeliever, the one who scoffed their existence and called them figments of his imagination. Sometimes it felt as if they were trying to help him convince her. But he could do without the abductions. Couldn’t they just show themselves to her and give her something to think about instead? Did they have to take her away and hurt her?

Coming prepared as always, he reached into the pocket of his jacket and pulled out a small sample bag, put the hair into it and stuffed it back into his pocket. It was evidence. Then he returned to the cot, grabbed the med kit still lying open and rooted through it to find what he needed. Tylenol for his headache and bandages for his foot. He wrapped the bandage around his twisted ankle after dry-swallowing three pills and then settled back for the pills to do their job and to rest his foot for a bit while giving the whole blasted situation some thought.

The more he thought about it, the more depressed he became. The chance to save Scully dwindled with every moment he was unable to go after her and he knew for a fact that even if he did go after her and did find her, he wouldn’t be able to help her in his present condition. He could barely get around himself, let alone help her. And with her injuries and the fever she had developed, he knew for a fact that she wouldn’t be able to walk or help him in any way.

By the time the sun set, he had come to the conclusion that he was utterly and royally screwed. He needed help, there was no way around it. The only option he had at this point in time was to get back to the first campsite and hope he would be able to call for help from there. Considering his inability to walk right now, he figured it would take the better part of two days for him to reach the first campsite and by that time, it was almost time for Winter to return anyway. He decided to set out the following morning and try to get within radio reach of Winter. Maybe the man could meet him halfway so he wouldn’t have to walk all the way back. That decided, he tried to get some sleep, but found that utterly impossible because his mind kept circling around what might be happening to Scully.

* * *

He was up before the break of dawn. Inspiration had struck and he had searched the few cabinets of the cabin in search of something useful and had, to his great relief, stumbled across an old crutch. Apparently, he wasn’t the first to ever get an injury up here which required such a device. Uncertain of its stability, he used it carefully at first, but soon found out that despite its aged look, it was quite sturdy. He packed the most necessary things into his backpack to keep it as light as possible, downed three more Tylenol to keep his headache at bay and set out after labouriously chewing threw an old, dry piece of bread. It was the only thing apart from ice water and pills he could stomach at that point.

Before he reached the edge of the clearing, though, he came to a stop and turned back to look in the opposite direction of where he was going. Scully was out there somewhere and he was letting himself be discouraged by a foot injury. Wavering in his decision, he stood there for a long moment, then he hissed an angry curse, shrugged out of his backpack and hoppled back toward the middle of the clearing while leaning heavily on his crutch. “SCULLY!” he yelled, wondering if maybe the giant hadn’t dropped her somewhere along the way and she could hear him. “SCULLY!” he tried again. He would be damned if he would leave this place without even trying to find her. He would still have plenty of time to return to the first camp site. “SCULLY, ANSWER ME!”

With a will stronger than steel, he started toward the opposite side of the clearing, somehow convinced that her abductor had gone in that particular direction, and started into the forest beyond, set on finding her. It didn’t take long for him to come to his senses, though. When the crutch sank into the loose dirt, reminding him of his handicap, he came to a stop before he fell over and hurt himself even more. This made no sense whatsoever. He couldn’t rescue her in his present condition. All he could do was go for help. And he was damned well going to do that.

With his previous resolve trickling out of him like water out of a leaky canteen, he made his way back to the clearing and sank down on a pile of firewood. His head was aching, his foot felt bloated and painful and all he wanted to do was lie down and sleep for a while. Most of all, he wanted Scully to be there, fit and well, when he woke up again. “Wishful thinking,” he mumbled and covered his face with both hands. There was nothing else for him to do than make the trip back to the first campsite and try to get in touch with Winter. That was all there was to it.

Discouraged and disheartened, he decided to stay one more night and then set out at dawn to make as much of the day as he could. He couldn’t very well walk in the dark along the edge of a ravine on a crutch. That would be suicide.

* * *

**Memorial Hospital  
Yellowknife**

It had taken him the better part of two days to get back to the first campsite and to his surprise, he had found Winter waiting for him there. Because of his stubborn disposition, he hadn’t realized how poorly he was really faring and had caused Winter all kinds of trouble when he had simply passed out on the younger man.

When he woke up again, he was in the hospital in Yellowknife and, under doctor’s orders, he wasn’t supposed to do anything strenuous. A badly twisted ankle with possible ligament-damages because he had walked on it too much and a nasty concussion which should have levelled him a long time ago bound him to his bed.

He was in and out of consciousness, but had somehow been able to inform the nursing staff about his missing partner. Stan Winter supported his ravings and said he had taken two up there, but only one had returned. That resulted in an instant search team being dispersed and the hospital to contact the FBI Headquarters in Washington. One day later, Assistant Director Skinner arrived.

* * *

Mulder came awake without opening his eyes. Any contact with light was still pretty painful to his eyes and he felt nauseous and dizzy most of the time. Overexertion and overexposure had very nearly put an end to him and it had been in the nick of time that Winter had managed to get him back to Yellowknife.

When he finally managed to open his eyes, he found his supervisor standing at the foot of the bed, watching him with a frown.

“Agent Mulder. How are you feeling?” Skinner asked, his tone betraying that Mulder’s condition wasn’t foremost on his mind.

Mulder wished desperately that the headache would go away and that he would stop feeling like shit. But since neither of those two wishes came true, he settled for closing his eyes again. “Like shit,” he mumbled in response.

Skinner made a face and inhaled deeply. He had a million things he wanted to say to Mulder and none of them were either supportive or hope giving. It was with an effort that he decided to go easy on the man. “They’ve found no trace of Agent Scully apart from her backpack and whatever you left behind,” he said, forcing his tone into a monotonous drone. “Do you feel up to telling me what happened up there?” he asked when Mulder showed no response to that bit of information.

Mulder kept his eyes closed for a moment longer, then forced his lids open and squinted at Skinner. “You wouldn’t believe it,” he claimed in a hoarse tone of voice.

The distinctly tense expression on Skinner’s face made Mulder almost flinch. He knew he was being blamed for Scully’s disappearance, but he couldn’t for the life of him understand why Skinner held back on what he really thought. That wasn’t really like him.

“You’d be amazed at what I believe at the moment,” Skinner stated and walked over to the window to take a look outside. “It’s freezing up there now. They’ve promised snow,” he went on, his back to Mulder. “Do you know what her chances of survival are?”

Subconsciously, Mulder flinched again. He was all too aware of what her chances were. He had been aware of that the moment he had woken up on the ground up there with his head aching and his foot hurting, cold to the bone.

Skinner turned around again, his expression dark. “About a thousand to naught,” he said. “Do you understand what that means, Agent Mulder? Your wild goose chase for a creature that does not exist may have terminated your partner’s life.” Skinner knew he was cutting close to the bone and he also knew that he wasn’t telling Mulder anything he didn’t know already. But he was angry. Angry and disappointed at how single-minded Mulder could be, at how little regard he had for his partner’s wishes and wants.

Mulder said nothing. What could he, after all, say? Skinner was right. He had once again led her off onto an unknown path and had, although unwillingly, left her to fend for herself. The thought of her made him swallow hard. He wasn’t going to try and justify his actions, but he did feel that he had to tell Skinner what he had seen. Raising his eyes, he squinted at his boss again. “It does exist,” he said quietly.

“What?” Skinner demanded, somewhat taken aback by that comment.

“Bigfoot does exist. That’s what happened to Scully. For some reason, it took her away,” Mulder tried to explain, but he could tell clearly by Skinner’s expression that the truth didn’t wash with him.

Skinner couldn’t really believe that Mulder would continue to cling to that idea in spite of everything and it took him a moment to regain his composure before he was able to vent his indignation. “Do you expect me to tell the people in Washington, to tell her family, that she was abducted by a fairytale figure?”

Gingerly, Mulder slipped a hand behind his neck and squeezed lightly, trying to take some of the tension out of it. “It’s not a fairytale figure,” he said, his voice having gained a little more strength. “I saw it. It knocked me out and took her away. I tried to find her, but I was in no condition to make a thorough search.”

Skinner nodded, utterly unconvinced. “All right. So, what exactly did you see? You saw Bigfoot march into that cabin, knock you down and carry Agent Scully away?” he wanted to know, trying to reserve final judgement until he knew for certain that Mulder had lost his marbles.

“No, I saw a big, shaggy... thing standing over her. Before I could do something about it, it knocked me out and took her with it. I doubt very much that she got up and walked away after I was out cold. She had dislocated her knee. There was no way she could walk anywhere,” Mulder tried to explain. The more he talked, the more ludicrous it sounded even to him. With a quiet groan, he pressed both hands against his face.

“A big, shaggy thing?” Skinner asked, then sighed. “For Pete’s sake, Mulder. What the hell is wrong with you? If you want to go chasing after urban legends like this, do it on your own. Don’t drag Agent Scully into it every time. Things like this keep happening and one of these days, you’re not going to be so lucky to find her again. God forbid this is one of those times.”

“Don’t you think I’ve thought about that?” Mulder growled. “I’ve thought about nothing else. I considered staying up there to look for her. I even tried. But I couldn’t very well help her if I was incapacitated. I opted to get some help instead. I never, ever expected it to go this way. If I had, I wouldn’t have brought her along.”

Skinner stopped at the foot of the bed once again and grabbed the rail with both hands. “You knew that seven hikers have vanished up there and that none of them have been found or heard from since. What the hell were you thinking?” Before Mulder could answer that, Skinner raised his hands in a deprecating gesture. “Never mind. I’ve heard enough weirdness from you to actually believe this. What you have to worry about right now is explaining this one to Captain Scully. He’s on his way here and, let me tell you, he’s not happy.”

That made Mulder pale considerably. He wasn’t afraid of Bill Scully as such, but he’d had enough run-ins with the man to know that he hit below the belt, figuratively speaking. And Mulder doubted severely that he could convince Bill of what had happened. If the other man didn’t kill him on sight, he could consider himself lucky. Not thinking too clearly about it, he grumbled, “Did you have to call him?”

Skinner was annoyed enough as it were. That comment made him bristle, though. “Yes, I damned well had to. I didn’t want to cause her mother any more heartache if it could be helped, so I called her brother instead, hoping that we would find Scully before he came. But the chances are slimmer now than ever. She’s been missing for over four days now. I don’t think I have to tell you what that means.”

Again, Mulder flinched. This time, he did it visibly. The thought of Maggie having to endure another period of her daughter’s absence, and that after Melissa had died, made him want to crawl into a hole and hide. He felt utterly responsible for this, no matter how he turned it.

“I suggest you get some rest, Agent Mulder. Captain Scully is going to be here by tomorrow morning and I don’t think he’s going to pay much attention to your state of health,” Skinner said, his tone a little more mellow. “You’ve really screwed things up royally this time, haven’t you?” he asked, then shook his head and left the room again.

Mulder draped an arm over his face and sighed. Not surprisingly, he felt the hot, thick feeling of tears welling up in his eyes. If he had lost Scully for good this time, he would spend the rest of his life blaming himself. And rightly so. This was not a matter of whether or not she could have stayed at home. He had tricked her into coming with him and he was responsible for her because of it.


	3. Chapter 3

Local Sheriff's office  
Yellowknife

Skinner had paced the office of the local sheriff so many times that he would soon begin to wear a groove in the floor. He had declined offers to sit down and relax and have some coffee for the simple reason that he was in no mood to get comfy with the locals while Scully was out there somewhere. Although he had to admit to himself that he found it increasingly difficult to hold on to the idea that she was still alive. Abductions there had been before. But never like this. This was the one time in the years he had known Scully that he didn’t think she was coming back. Mulder wasn’t able to go out there and look for her. He had no doubt in his mind that Mulder would have succeeded in finding both her and the ever-elusive Bigfoot if he had been up to speed, but he wasn’t and hence his partner was gone.

When the door to the office opened, he turned around, hoping it was the sheriff with good news. Instead it was Bill Scully, his complexion pale, his expression drawn. The man looked like he hadn’t slept a wink since Skinner had called him.

“A D Skinner,” he said, stretching a hand out.

Skinner took it and gave it a quick squeeze before letting go again. “Captain Scully,” he replied.

“Any word yet?” Bill wanted to know, concern etched into his features.

“No, not yet. We have three search teams going over the area up there. They haven’t called in yet. But they will as soon as they find something,” Skinner said, then waved toward a chair.

Bill settled down. “I appreciate that you didn’t call my mother. I don’t think she should know what’s going on until we know more ourselves,” he said as Skinner sat down on the sheriff's chair. Bill fell silent for a moment, an uncomfortable silence, where he kept his eyes on the floor. Then he looked up at Skinner. “What do you think the chance is that we will find her alive? And please tell me the truth.”

Skinner didn’t like questions like that. He didn’t like robbing others of hope and if he were to tell the truth, he would do just that, extinguish the frail flame of hope in the other man’s eyes. “To be honest,” he said, but hesitated for the second it took him to make up his mind, “I don’t know. It can go either way right now. It hasn’t been really cold until today, so her chances have been fairly good so far. Depending on what happened to her, of course.”

Bill nodded, aware that Skinner couldn’t be held accountable for what had happened. But he was still royally pissed off and scared out of his mind at the same time. “And what did happen to her?” he wanted to know.

That caused Skinner to purse his lips. Now, that was a question he certainly didn’t want to answer at all. “You’ll have to ask Agent Mulder about that,” he said somewhat curtly, picked up a paperclip and started to fiddle with it. “As it were, we do know that she vanished in that area up there because her backpack was still there.”

Bill nodded again, rose from his seat and stepped up to the window to look out at the bustling town. “A D Skinner,” he finally said, not looking back. “When all this is over and Dana hopefully is back among us, alive and in one piece, I want you to transfer her away from Agent Mulder. I know she’s a grown woman and that she can make decisions on her own, but he has jeopardized her life one time too many and she just can’t see it.”

Skinner stared at the other man, somewhat confounded by that request. He couldn’t really say he blamed Captain Scully for wanting his sister to get away from Mulder, but he also found it a lot less than respectful of her wishes that her brother would even voice such a suggestion. Returning his gaze to the now utterly unrecognizable paperclip, Skinner considered what to say and decided there was really only one thing he could say. “I can’t do that.”

Bill turned around, his expression fierce. “Somehow he has blinded her to what’s going on around her. She’s probably too close to him to see how dangerous he is to her health. That’s why I’m asking you to make that call,” he nearly demanded, his tone having a desperate ring to it.

Skinner looked up to meet his gaze, his own eyes hard as flint. “As I said, I can’t do that. Agent Scully is very capable of seeing what’s going on around her. If she does not voice any intent of leaving Agent Mulder, I can’t and I won’t force her. They make a good team and Agent Mulder has previously gone out of his way to save her. He is rather overprotective of her in most cases and has even requested the same thing you just did. I had to give him the same reply.” Seeing the feelings in the other man’s eyes made Skinner uncomfortable, but as usual, he had a most excellent grip on his own. “If you want your sister to quit the X-Files, you’re going to have to convince her yourself. It’s out of my hands.”

Bill was upset. He couldn’t deny it, couldn’t hide it even. “After what has just happened?” he demanded angrily. “Agent Mulder should be held accountable for this. He brought her up here, he is the one exposing her to danger all the time. I’ve lost one sister, A D Skinner. I will not lose another.”

Skinner rose, his expression as hard as his eyes. “It’s not my call. Besides, I doubt severely that Agent Mulder at any time twisted her arm and forced her to come along. She had the option of going back any time. The fact that she didn’t must be enough of a pointer at that she was where she wanted to be. As you said, she’s a grown woman and she can make her own decisions. I’m sorry I can’t be of any help to you, Captain Scully.” Silence settled heavily on the room as they stared each other down, then Skinner sighed. “I sympathize, Captain Scully. I realize that your family has already suffered too many losses. But this is not something that is up to me. It is not Bureau policy to break up a well-functioning team because their family members don’t think they belong together.”

Bill swallowed and then cleared his throat. He knew he had overstepped the line and if he wanted to stick around and find out what happened, he would have to keep a low profile from now on. “I apologies for my outburst. I’m just very worried about my sister,” he finally said.

“I understand. The waiting is the worst part of it,” Skinner agreed and sat back down.

Just then, the door to the office opened again and the sheriff stepped in. “Sir, there’s a call for you from Washington,” he said, nodding toward the phone.

Skinner frowned, then grabbed the receiver and briefly talked to his secretary, Kimberly. Eventually, he hung up again and focussed on Bill. “I have to return to Washington,” he said. “There seems to be a crisis there, which needs my immediate attention.”

That raised Bill’s temper again. “So you just leave while one of your agents is still missing?” he asked, sounding somewhat surprised.

“I have no other option, Captain Scully. Besides, there isn’t much I can do here anyway but sit around and wait. The team leader will keep me posted and he will assist you in any way he can,” Skinner said and rose. “I’m sorry. I have to go. I have a plane to catch.” With that, Skinner was out the door and happy for it. Having to deal any further with Scully’s upset brother would have been rather uncomfortable. In his eagerness to get out of there, he managed to forget about Mulder.

XXX

Bill Scully wasn’t a happy man. Actually, he couldn’t claim to have been completely happy since his baby sister had joined the Federal Bureau of Investigation. The thought of the danger she put herself in on a daily basis was sometimes more than he could handle. His wife had heard that argument too many times to count and he was fully aware that he was repeating himself to her over and over again. But it just bothered him that his baby sister, the only sister he had left, was subjecting herself to real danger every day. And why? Because her so-called partner was insane.

Bill stood outside the sheriff’s office and stared up at the looming mountains, a feeling of dread building in the pit of his stomach. He wanted to go up there, tear the damned forest apart, until he found his sister and could bring her back to civilization. He wanted to believe that she wasn’t gone for good, that she would be found alive and well.

The more he thought about it, the more he blamed Mulder for what had happened. The fact that Skinner had let him know that Mulder had a concussion and a badly twisted ankle and therefore couldn’t have gone after her anyway made no big difference to him. He didn’t care much for the man and would love to hold him responsible for everything that had ever gone wrong for Dana.

Making a face, he made a decision he felt was long overdue. With determination, he turned and headed toward the local hospital.

XXX

Memorial Hospital  
Yellowknife

Mulder was feeling a little better physically and that made a world of difference to the decisions he made. Lying around and waiting for news wasn’t something he could stand doing, not when he felt responsible for the events forcing him to do so and especially not when he felt he would be able to do something about it now that he felt better.

So, when the nurse came in to check on him, she found him fully dressed and on his feet, although a little unsteadily. “What in the name of God are you doing?” she asked, more surprised than anything.

“I’m not doing much in the name of God,” Mulder replied, steadying himself against the foot of the bed. “Could you get me a pair of crutches, please? I can’t walk on this foot yet,” he added as if his getting up was the most natural thing in the world.

“I certainly cannot,” the nurse replied in a huff. “You are going back to bed, Mr. Mulder. There is no way that any doctor in his right mind would release you from this hospital right now.”

Mulder stared at her for a second, then sighed. “Then I’m just going to have to make do with walls and chairs, won’t I?” he told her, successfully hiding his present discomfort from her scrutinizing eyes. She wasn’t Scully. She couldn’t seen right through him. “I have things I need to do. I can’t stay here.”

“You most certainly can, Mr. Mulder. You are in no condition to go anywhere,” the nurse insisted, crossing her arms over her chest and blocking his way out of the room. “Get those clothes off and go back to bed. Don’t make me call the orderlies,” she warned.

Mulder was in no mood to put up with bossy nurses at this point and he wasn’t going to give in on this one. “Don’t you treat me like I’m a kid,” he snapped, suddenly angry. “My partner is out there, in desperate need of help. I have to try and find her. It’s my fault she’s out there in the first place.”

“I don’t care. You’re in no condition to go anywhere and that’s final. You’re in the custody of this hospital until the doctor says otherwise. Now, hush-hush, back to bed,” the nurse said, waving toward the bed.

Mulder glared at her. Although it hurt his head, he glared, because she had just let him know that she didn’t care one way or another if Scully died up there while he was lying around, feeling sorry for himself. Well, he didn’t care what she had to say. “Look, I have to go look for my partner, okay? It’s my fault that she’s out there. When I’ve found her, I’ll willingly go back to bed and stay there for as long as you think I should. But I’m not staying here while she’s out there, do you get that?”

The nurse eyed him thoughtfully for a moment, then shook her head. “Mr. Mulder, you’re not going to do her any good in your present condition. Let the others search for her. You’ll feel a lot better when they’ve found her and then you can be there for her when she really needs you,” she suggested, not yet willing to give up the fight.

“She really needs me right now,” Mulder insisted.

“Give the man a pair of crutches,” a dark voice said from behind the nurse.

Mulder stared in utter surprise at Bill Scully, who had turned up in the doorway, an unreadable expression on his face.

The nurse, however, was not surprised and was not about to give in just because someone else said so. “I most certainly will not. He’s in no condition to leave this hospital. Heaven knows what complications there can be if he doesn’t rest,” she said, waving a hand toward Mulder.

“Just get him the crutches,” Bill said sternly. “I’ll look after him,” he added and sent Mulder a look that could not be misunderstood.

XXX

It had taken the better part of an hour to convince the doctor that Mulder should be released and it only happened when Bill pulled rank on him. How he managed to convince the doctor that he could influence the man’s further career was beyond Mulder. And he didn’t try too hard to understand the reasoning behind it anyway. His head hurt too much and so did his foot. He was released at his own responsibility, but the doctor was insistent enough to give him a bottle of prescription pills for the pain he might suffer. Mulder had gratefully accepted the bottle and had taken two of the pills right after to subdue the headache.

Sitting on the passenger side seat of the Ranger Rover Bill had rented for the trip, he had his eyes closed and his head leaning against the headrest. He felt lousy, but the thought of Scully made him push his own discomfort aside and focus on her.

Bill drove in silence. He hadn’t said a word since they’d taken their leave of the doctor and Mulder knew exactly why Bill had done what he had done. It hadn’t been because he wanted to help him. Apparently, Bill had the same idea he’d had when he had come to the hospital. That he should come with him up to the campsite to look for Scully.

“Has there been any news?” Mulder finally asked and opened his eyes to squint out the windshield.

“No,” Bill replied curtly, his eyes on the street ahead. He was not about to embark on a conversation with Mulder.

Mulder nodded and closed his eyes again. What was the purpose of striking up a conversation with this man? He didn’t like Mulder one bit and this last incident sure hadn’t improved on their already very tense relationship. Sometimes, though, Mulder couldn’t help thinking what would happen if ever he and Scully got more involved than they were now. What would Bill do then? Choose not to see his sister because he didn’t like his brother-in-law? He couldn’t help wondering about things like that, couldn’t help wondering if it was an option on the horizon or if it was just wishful thinking on his part. He was most inclined to believe the latter and hope for the first.

XXX

Bear Lake  
Northwestern Territories

The drive back up into the mountains seemed a lot longer than it had the first time and Mulder realized that a path to the second campsite had been cleared through the forest in order for the search teams to be able to move back and forth easily. He couldn’t help realizing that all this effort, which was made to find Scully, hadn’t been made to find the other seven missing hikers. It once again proved that having connections paid off.

Bill stopped the car in the middle of the clearing and pushed the door open and got out without a word. He slammed the door rather hard and Mulder took a moment to get his act together and get out of the car as well. The pills were working, suppressing his headache, but they did fairly little for the thudding of his twisted ankle. He tried his best to keep the foot off the ground as he pushed himself into a standing position and wearily glanced around the campsite.

Bill stood a few feet ahead of the car, hands on hips, and glared at the forest as if that alone would produce his sister. When nothing manifested itself, he turned around to face a decidedly pale-faced Fox Mulder. “Where did she disappear?” he wanted to know, unmoved by the other man’s plight.

Mulder nodded toward the cabin. “From inside,” he said and started moving forward toward the cabin. “It took her from in there.”

Bill’s already stern expression didn’t become brighter from that remark. He snorted contemptuously and turned back toward the forest, his eyes scanning the ground. If there had been a trace of the creature Mulder claimed had taken Scully, it was gone by now. The ground of the clearing had been torn up by the wheels of vehicles and boots. “So, where did this creature take her, then?” he wanted to know, utterly unconvinced that any creature had taken his sister away. For all he knew, Mulder had probably left her behind in a ditch somewhere to go chasing after his holy grail again.

Mulder had almost reached the cabin, the thought that it was weird that nobody else was there but them foremost on his mind, but Bill’s words made him stop short. Turning, he couldn’t help the powerless anger rising in him at Bill’s obvious ignorance. Usually, he couldn’t care less if others believed or not. But this was about Scully. “If I knew, I would have told someone. Don’t you think?” he asked back, his tone somewhat sharper than perhaps intended.

Bill looked back at him for second, then grumbled something under his breath and turned back to fully face him. “I don’t like you, Mr. Mulder. I never have and I never will. You’ve put my family through more sorrow than any one family should have to go through and I will not stand by and let you continue to be such an integral part of my sister’s life. If it hadn’t been for you, Melissa would still be alive and Dana would still be with us, able to have children and perchance even happily married. So, you better give this your best and hope that we find Dana alive. Because, if we don’t, I’m going to kill you. Do you understand me?”

Mulder just stared back at him, aware that he was right. Although he knew that Bill wanted to blame him for everything that went wrong in Scully’s life and most of it was blown out of proportions by her overprotective brother, Mulder couldn’t help thinking that he was right, that all of Scully’s misfortunes since she had met him were his fault. Instead of replying to that obvious threat, Mulder turned and made his way into the cabin, where he sank down on the cot Scully had been taken from. If Bill decided to leave without him, he wouldn’t put up a fight. All he wanted to do was just sit there and try to forget how much pain he had caused her.

Bill stared at the doorway to the cabin for a moment, then snorted again, turned back to the forest and started searching the perimeter. If Mulder didn’t want to help, he would have to suffer the consequences.

XXX

Bill Scully had spent the majority of the day searching the forest around the campsite for Scully without finding any trace. There were no tracks, no indication of anything or anyone having moved beyond the area the search teams had gone over. He had gone a little beyond that, but fear of getting lost himself had eventually driven him back to the campsite right after dark.

He stopped in the middle of the clearing in front of the rental that had brought him to this place and looked around. Everything was completely silent. Not a sound could be heard. For a long moment, he didn’t reflect on that, then it slowly dawned on him how odd it was that a forest should be this silent. Okay, so maybe there were no crickets this time of year, but there ought to have been some kind of life. With a shake of the head, he dismissed those thoughts as completely irrelevant and walked over to the dark cabin and stepped inside. He had expected Mulder to at least have sense enough to turn on some light, but he hadn’t even done that. He was still sitting on that cot, his back to the door, slightly hunched over.

“Sitting around here won’t bring her back,” he said after a moment, his eyes on the motionless figure on the cot.

Mulder didn’t respond. He felt he had nothing to say to Bill Scully and hence didn’t even try. He knew there was nothing he could do to bring Scully back and by now he was really starting to give up the hope that he would ever see her again. He was cold and in pain, but he didn’t bother lighting a fire to get warm again or take the pills in his pocket to subdue the pain. What was the point, after all? There was nothing left for him in this world.

Wallowing in self-pity, he just remained seated, unmoving, uncaring what other words of scorn Bill Scully might have for him. He had long since admitted his guilt in her disappearance to himself and that was all he needed to know.

Bill stared at him for a moment longer, then he sighed and walked over to the fireplace to start a fire. “We’ll stay here tonight. I’ll keep on searching for her tomorrow,” he said. Somehow, he found it rather uncomfortable that Mulder said and did nothing. For the first time in the years he had known of Mulder’s existence, he wondered if maybe he hadn’t been a little too hard on the man. His condition wasn’t good and Bill could tell without trouble that Mulder wouldn’t be able to join him in the search.

“Why bother?” Mulder asked after while of silence and focused on Bill. “You’re not going to find her.”

Bill made a face. “We’ll see,” he said, unwilling to let go just yet. “I just don’t much feel like calling my mother to tell her that she’s lost her last daughter. It’ll be the death of her.” Leaning his head back, he looked up at the ceiling of the cabin and sighed deeply. “I’m glad my father isn’t alive to witness this. It would tear his heart out. Both my sisters were his one and all. He would have guarded both with his life. It would have broken him to lose them like this.”

Mulder found it hard to retain his feelings at that moment, but he fought and won the battle against the lump rising in his throat. He was not going to break down in front of Bill Scully. He didn’t even want to do it in front of his sister while she was awake and aware. Swallowing, he gazed disheartened into the flames flickering in the fireplace and wondered what it would take for him to not destroy other people’s lives.

Bill regarded him for a long while, taking in every little sign of the other man’s rapid decline. Then he pursed his lips. “I’m going to do my damnedest to convince Dana to quit the FBI if I find her alive out there,” he said after a moment. “She needs to have a normal life and she can’t do that while she’s working with you.”

Mulder blinked, then focussed on the other man. “I never meant for this to happen. I never meant for her to suffer,” he said.

Bill’s expression darkened while he stared at Mulder with dawning realization. “You love her,” he finally said. “Don’t you?” His tone of voice indicated how much he was against such a notion, yet he felt compelled to ask that question. He wanted to get things straight in his head and if that was the only way to do it, that’s what he would do, however much he might dislike the answer.

Mulder looked away, returning his gaze to the flames. “I care for her. We’re friends. She’s stood by me through some pretty tough times. She refuses to leave the X-Files despite all that has happened,” he said, his words slow and well considered. “I did try to make her leave. But she won’t. In the end, it’s her decision.”

“You haven’t tried hard enough,” Bill claimed. “If I find her, you are going to do whatever it takes to make her leave. If you care as much for her as I think you do, you know that the X-Files and the FBI is not for her. And I will not lose another sister.”

“You won’t have to,” Mulder replied and closed his eyes, speaking with the dawning certainty that Scully wouldn’t come back. And even if she did by some miracle, he was certain that she would leave the X-Files behind, convinced by her brother and, in part, also by himself. “I’ll do what I can to make her leave,” he then promised.

Satisfied, Bill nodded. “Good. Now, let’s get some sleep,” he said.

XXX

The sun rose almost serenely over the quite forest, shedding its light over the bare branches of hardwood trees and the rich, dark green of pine trees reaching towards a blue, cloudless sky. The air was chilly and a light breeze rustled wilted leaves on the ground. A deer crossed the clearing, paused briefly to sniff the air, and then bounded off into the underbrush again, disappearing from sight almost instantly.

After a sleepless night, Mulder had struggled to get outside so he could sit on the steps and listen to the forest around him. His head hurt ferociously and his foot wasn’t doing too good either. He had overcome his need to suffer halfway through the night and had taken two pills, but their effect had worn off again, leaving him sore and in dire need to sleep. But he couldn’t and he definitely wouldn’t sleep. Closing his eyes, he let his head drop and just listened to his surroundings. What he wouldn’t give to hear her calling out for him right now.

But all that answered him out there was silence and the faraway song of a bird. No calls for help rang out and he once again cursed himself for not being there for her when she needed him. That time when she had been abducted, she had called him, reached out for his help, and he hadn’t been there. Even though he knew he would never have been able to make it to her place in time, it made no difference. He hadn’t been there when she needed him. And now the same thing happened again. Something had taken her away and all he had been able to do was pass out.

With a heavy sigh, he pushed his fingers into his hair and pressed his palms against his temples, both trying to stop his thoughts and diminish the pain. He knew that the outcome of an untended concussion could become dire indeed, but how could he lie around in a hospital bed, trying to get better, when Scully was out in those woods, perhaps in dire need of help? He couldn’t just do nothing. It wasn’t in his nature as a profiler and a field agent for the FBI to let sleeping dogs lie. He just couldn’t and wouldn’t do it.

A sudden sound interrupted his train of thought and he brought his head up a little too sharply for comfort. With a flinch, he grabbed his head with his right hand and blinked a few times to clear his suddenly blurry vision. It took a second for the rushing of blood to subside in his ears, but once it did, he could hear the forest around him clearly again. And there was a sound out there that didn’t fit. The sound of footsteps had disturbed the otherwise serene morning, the sound of someone nearing the edge of the clearing from the north. The footsteps, the sound of breaking twigs and rustling leaves, made him stare intently into the foliage. Someone or something was out there, heading toward the clearing. He tried to focus on the sound, to figure out from where exactly it came, and suddenly caught sight of something moving amongst the trees. It wasn’t big, so it couldn’t be what had taken Scully.

Slowly, he got up, trying to force his eyes to adjust to the shape approaching the clearing. His heart skipped a beat when it dawned on him who it could be, but his mind dismissed it instantly again. It couldn’t be her. She couldn’t walk. Nevertheless, Scully pushed through the underbrush and into the clearing, where she came to a halt and briefly looked up at the sky. Then she sighed and looked over toward the cabin.

His first thought was that his concussion had been worse than he thought and that this was some kind of fever dream or something similar. But there she was, alive, moving on her own accord, and when her eyes fixed on him, she smiled.

“Mulder,” she said and started moving again. She was dragging her right leg a little, not putting her full weight on it, but she was walking and she looked fairly okay, alas a little dirty. She closed the distance and came to a stop in front of him, her head tilted back a little meet his eyes. “Have you been here all the time?” she wanted to know.

He was speechless. For the first time in a long time, he felt himself completely unable to speak, to find something to say. All he could think of saying was rather irrelevant. That didn’t stop him from saying it, though. “I thought you were dead.”

His words and obvious confusion made her smile again. Then she realized what a state he was in and her expression changed to a worried one. “Look at you. You’re a mess,” she said and reached up to feel his brow for fever, which she discovered he had. “You’re feverish. You need to be in bed. What happened to you?” she wanted to know, all business.

At that very moment, Bill opened the door to find out where Mulder had gone and stopped short. “Dana?” he exclaimed.

“Bill?” she asked, stunned. “What are you doing here?” she then wanted to know, her tone of voice indicating that she wasn’t exactly pleased to see him.

“What am I doing here? Are you kidding? You’ve been missing for five days. We all thought you were dead,” he huffed, both angry and relieved at once. Before she could stop him, he had wrapped his arms around her, all teary eyed. “I thought we’d lost you.”

Scully allowed him a moment, then she pushed back and out of his arms. “You haven’t lost me. I’m right here. And I’m fine. What is Mulder doing up here? He needs to be in bed,” she demanded.

Bill glanced at Mulder, then back at Scully. “He was responsible for losing you. I figured it would only be right if he helped find you again,” he tried to explain.

Scully had spent the time it took him to say that with inspecting her ailing partner closer and she was rather appalled by what she saw and heard. “Right?” she snapped, angered by her brother’s insensitivity, then turned her attention to Mulder again. “Do you have a concussion?” she wanted to know and he nodded gingerly. “You need to lie down. Right now,” she told him and, without deigning her brother with another glance, pushed Mulder back into the cabin. “Lie down,” she demanded. “Have you seen a doctor?”

“Yeah, I have,” he said, impatient to know where she had been. “Scully, what happened to you?” he wanted to know, not at all interested in talking about his own frailty.

“Never mind what happened to me. We can talk about that later. Right now, I want you to rest. What did the doctor say?” she wanted to know, upset about his poor condition. She took his pulse, then shook her head in annoyance. “Did you get anything for the headache?”

“Yes, I did. It’s in my pocket. Scully, please just tell me what happened to you. I saw...” he began, but she clapped a hand over his mouth.

“Shut up, Mulder,” she told him and searched through his pockets until she found the bottle of pills. She inspected the label for a moment, then shook out two and handed them to him. “Take these,” she told him, then turned to her brother, who stood in the doorway, a stunned look on his face. “Bill, get me some water,” she told him. When he didn’t move, she gave him an angry glare. “Now!”

XXX

Memorial Hospital  
Yellowknife

With Scully in charge the whole time, they returned to Yellowknife and returned Mulder to the hospital. The majority of the people who had been involved in the search for Scully turned up to see her and marvel at the fact that she had obviously survived her stay in the forest without any trouble at all. As a matter of fact, she had become better. And through it all, she refused to talk to anybody about what had happened. Whenever someone breached the subject, she would brush it off and avoid it.

Bill nearly lost his temper with her after only an hour. “God damn it, Dana, what does it take? That lunatic drags you up here and puts you in mortal danger, you disappear for five days and now you won’t even tell me where you were? What kind of sick, twisted game is this?” he demanded angrily while the doctor, who had checked her over, put a pressure bandage on her right knee. Although it was doing a lot better than it had only five days ago, it was still sore and she needed to be a little careful about walking on it too much.

Scully gave her older brother an angry glare. “Can we talk about this later?” she hissed through clenched teeth, not willing to let herself be pulled into a verbal fight with him once again. Especially not when there were other people in the room.

The doctor gave her a brief glance, then padded her knee gently. “There. That should give you some mobility. I don’t think I have to remind you that you need to stay off this leg as much as possible, do I?” he asked her.

Scully deigned him with a smile. “I realize that. How is Mulder doing?” she wanted to know, not interested in talking about her own injuries or how she had come to be so fit after such a short time.

“He’s sleeping comfortably. I don’t think he’ll need anything to help him sleep, either. He virtually passed out a moment after he was back in bed. Fortunately, his condition seems to be so poor merely because of fatigue and a rather constant headache rather than a severe concussion. The elements have a lot to do with that, as well. His condition. Not the concussion,” the doctor explained.

“Thank you,” Scully said, thereby dismissing the man. Instead, she turned her attention to her brother, who stood with his back to her by the window, smoldering under his own right. Once the doctor had left, she felt rather inclined to let him have it. But blowing up wasn’t going to benefit anything. She knew that well enough. Instead she drew a deep breath to calm herself down. “There are a few things about my life that are none of your concern, Bill,” she finally said, causing him to turn around to face her with a frown. “Number one is Mulder. He is not a lunatic, he is my partner and perhaps my best friend. He has come through for me more times that I care to remember and I like to repay the favor in kind. If that means I have to protect him from your rampages, so be it. If you ever as much as scowl at him again, Bill, I’m going to cut you off and never speak to you again, do I make myself clear? Mulder has nothing at all to do with the things that happen to me. They happen because that’s the way life goes. Dad never tried to overprotect me and you’re not going to try and do that now. Take care of your own family, live your own life, and leave mine be.”

“Are you so blind that you can’t see it?” Bill replied instantly, hot tempered as ever. “You just don’t see how bad this whole thing is for you, do you, Dana?” he went on. “That... job and that partner of yours. How many times have you been in the hospital over the past six years, Dana? How many of those times were your injuries work-related? How much have you lost over this? Think about it for a minute, Dana. Just think about it. You’ve lost your fiancé, your sister and your ability to bear children. If that doesn’t start off the alarm bells, nothing will. Look at your life, for pity’s sake. Or what life you’ve got left in you.” He threw his hands in the air in utter frustration that she wouldn’t see things his way, that she wouldn’t listen to his reason. “Every time I see you, you look more worn out, more damaged in one way or another. When will this stop? When we find you dead on the floor in your apartment with a bullet in your head like Missy? Or they drag your corpse out of the river after you’ve been killed by one of those psychos you and that partner of yours are always hunting after?” He blinked furiously for a second to rid himself of treacherous tears rising in his eyes. “I can’t cope with losing another sister, Dana. I just can’t. If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for me and Charlie. And most of all, do it for mom. If you hadn’t come back this time... it would have killed her.”

Scully stared at him while he spoke, slowly becoming aware of that his reasoning wasn’t so far off base in general. She suddenly understood the background for his anger, for why he was always so upset about these things and she had to admit to herself that she had never seen it from that angle before. She gave him a second to regain his composure, then she slipped off the examination table and pulled her pants back on before turning around to face him. “This is not about you. Or Charlie. Or mom, for that matter. This is about me, about my choices, my life. Mom is a lot stronger than you give her credit for and I doubt severely that Charlie shares your view on this. So don’t drag them into this. And don’t drag Mulder into this, either. I have had plenty of chances to leave, Bill. Plenty. But I didn’t take them. And you know why?” She stared at him for a second to give him a chance to say something, but he said nothing. “Because I like what I do. I feel like I’m at least trying to make a difference. If that means that I’m in the danger zone, then that’s where I’ll be. If that means I risk getting shot at, stabbed or otherwise hurt, that’s just a chance I have to take. And you know why I don’t mind taking those chances?” she asked, but again he merely stared back at her. “Because I’ve got Mulder watching my back. Because I know that he’ll be there if I need him. Because I care about him and he cares about me. We’re much more than partners. We’re friends. And I won’t have you put my friends down.”

Bill stared at her for a long moment after she stopped talking. Then he sighed and dropped his gaze. “In other words, you’re telling me to butt out. Is that it?” he asked and glanced up at her again.

“Yes, for Pete’s sake, Bill. I’m asking you to butt out. I’m a grown woman. I’m an FBI Special Agent, for heaven’s sake. I can take care of myself as I think I’ve proven this time around, too. Would you please give me some credit and stop treating me like your little kid sister all the time? I don’t need your protection. I don’t need anybody's protection. I can protect myself. And when I do need backup, I’m turning to Mulder,” she said, trying not to let exasperation sneak into her voice. She was so tired of this constant battle over what she could and couldn’t do in her brother’s opinion. “You have to let go. You’re not my father.”

For a long moment Bill didn’t know what to say. He listened to the hum of the air-conditioning for a bit, a thoughtful expression in his eyes, then he sighed once again. How could he argue with that? She was right, after all. Although he doubted he would ever stop blaming Mulder for her misfortunes, he could see the sense in her words. “You really care about him, don’t you?” he asked, wanting to once and for all set things straight.

“Yes, I do,” she agreed with a tired sigh and without looking at him.

“For what it’s worth, I think he’s in love with you,” Bill said after having thought carefully about the outcome such words could have.

Scully raised her head and looked at him for a spell, then sighed. “For what it’s worth, it doesn’t make any difference. We’re there for each other and that’s all that counts,” she told him. “Now, would you please go home and calm your wife down? I’m sure Tara is about to go through the ceiling by now because you’ve once again painted her a pretty picture of the worst case scenario.”

“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Bill asked, not ready to leave. “I could stay until your boss gets here.”

“Skinner is coming up here?” she asked, then shook her head. It didn’t really surprise her. “Yes, Bill, I want you to go home. You’ve got a job to tend to and a family, too. And if you’ve told mom about this, it’s your job to calm her down again,” she said.

“I didn’t tell her for obvious reasons, Dana. Perhaps we shouldn’t... you know... tell her about this anyway,” Bill tried, suddenly a little timid at the thought of his mother’s wrath if she found out he had kept something as important as this from her.

“That’s one thing I’ve never understood about you, Billy,” Scully said, unable to keep a smile at bay. “How can you be a Navy Captain and still fear your mother?” It had always been something she wondered about. Her brother was all talk, but when he faced his mother, he was a little kid again and didn’t dare oppose her.

Bill made a face. There was fairly little he could say to that. Eventually, he sighed deeply. This wasn’t over. Not by a long shot. But he would give her some leeway. Mainly because he knew she would tear his head off if he continued to be so persistent about it. “Alright. I’m going back home. But you better call me when you’re home to let me know that you got there in one piece, you got that?” he demanded.

Scully nodded, mostly to get him off her back. “Yes, I got that,” she replied. “Now get out of here. I have a sick partner to tend to,” she added.

XXX

Mulder was out cold for the next two days, basically sleeping most of the time, and that left Scully with enough time on her hands to think things through in peace. Skinner arrived an hour after Bill left and he had the same kind of trouble to get through to Scully. She insisted that she was fine apart from minor injuries and that she wasn’t ready to talk about what had happened to her. To keep him off her case, she spent most of her time at Mulder’s bedside and was there when he finally decided to resurface from his extended nap.

When he opened his eyes, he found her beside his bed with a smile on her face. “Scully,” he whispered, then cleared his throat. “How are you?”

That made her laugh. “I’m fine. Besides, that’s my line,” she told him with a good-natured smile. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I’ve tried to use my head as a wrecking ball,” he confessed and rubbed a hand over his brow. “How long was I out for?”

“Two full days. And it’s done you good,” she told him.

Mulder eyed her for a moment, realizing there was a definite change in her. Something was different. “What about your brother?” he asked, glancing toward the door.

“I sent him home with a warning,” Scully replied. “He shouldn’t butt in where he isn’t wanted,” she added. “Skinner’s back.”

“Ouch,” Mulder mumbled and pressed both hands over his face. “He must be pissed,” he added and dropped his hands to face her again.

“I guess. He seems pretty... settled, though,” Scully responded and glanced toward the window.

Mulder regarded her thoughtfully for a moment. “How’s your knee?” he asked.

“Better,” she said and returned her attention to him. “A little sore. I’ve been keeping my weight off it for the past two days by sitting here all the time.”

“Good bedside manners, Doctor Scully,” he said with a quirky little smile.

That made her smile, too, but hers was a little off beat as if she wasn’t really paying attention. “I’m getting tired of spending so much time beside your sickbed,” she confessed. “Not that I won’t do it again, of course. It’s just happened too often lately.”

“Look who’s talking,” Mulder replied and shifted a little to get more comfortable. “You’re the one who just went missing for five days in a row in a rather hostile environment. Care to tell me how you made it through that?” Somehow he got the distinct impression that she wasn’t going to tell him. He just didn’t really understand why she would refuse him that information.

Scully looked at him for a moment, then sighed and looked away. “I don’t remember,” she finally said.

Mulder stared at her, somewhat surprised by that claim. “Look at me and say that again,” he told her.

Scully looked back at him, her eyes meeting his. “I don’t remember,” she repeated, not even blinking.

He didn’t think she could be more obvious about a lie than this one and it hurt him that she wouldn’t open up to him. He knew it was still hard for her to admit to these things, to seeing things that weren’t supposed to exist, but it did put him off a little that she would so bluntly lie about it. With a deep sigh, he looked away. “Fine,” he replied, his tone of voice standoffish.

Scully just looked at him for a moment, then leaned back in the chair and looked down at her hands lying folded in her lap. She wasn’t ready to talk, wasn’t even halfway sure about what she had experienced, and until she had it all straight in her mind, she would keep things under wrap. Fortunately for her, Skinner took that moment to make an appearance, stopping whatever Mulder had in mind to pry the truth out of her.

He stepped into the room and was relieved to find that Mulder was obviously awake and, from what he could tell, ticked off about something. “Good of you to rejoin us,” he said with a glance at Scully, who wasn’t paying attention.

“I figure I’ve slept enough to last me a lifetime,” Mulder replied and carefully pushed himself upright. He felt stiff and sore from lying down for too long.

Scully rose to help him with the head of the bed, a gesture he accepted without a word. After fluffing the pillow, she stepped back, not looking at either of them. She was fully aware of the constantly questioning glances she received from Skinner and the somewhat hurt look Mulder kept sending in her direction. With no apparent effort, she ignored both men’s attempt to hear her story. She merely settled back down on the chair and gave Skinner a pointed look, telling him without words to back off. Fortunately for her, her boss was well versed in subtle hints and he returned his attention to Mulder instead.

“How’s the head?” Skinner asked, having settled for not getting the story just yet.

“Better. It still hurts a little, but not as badly as before,” Mulder replied and glanced at Scully again, only to receive a suddenly decidedly frosty look back. It put an end to his hurt pride, though. She was getting angry and he didn’t want her to be angry with him. Not right now.

Skinner glanced at Scully. “Do you think he’s well enough to travel by tomorrow?” he asked her.

“Hey, I’m still here,” Mulder interjected, his tone slightly miffed.

Scully gave him a brief look, then returned her attention to Skinner, who was ignoring him. “I don’t know,” she replied and looked back at Mulder. “What do you think?”

Mulder shrugged. “Beats me. I haven’t been out of bed yet,” he replied.

“And you shouldn’t be getting out of bed yet, either. You should rest some more,” she admonished him with that motherly tone in her voice that he both hated and loved.

“Don’t you think I’ve rested enough? I’ve been on my back for two full days,” he countered, aware that they were slipping into an argument as regular as clockwork.

“And you’ll be on your back for one more day. We’ll see how you’re doing tomorrow. If you can get out of bed without falling flat on your face, we can all go home. If you can’t, we’re staying on,” she replied.

Skinner raised an eyebrow. Not for the first time he felt relieved that she wasn’t his superior. He was quite certain that she could be pretty tough if she was in charge. “Well, as things are right now, I have to get back to DC tomorrow, with or without you two,” he said.

Scully nodded. “That’s fine. If he can’t get up tomorrow, we’ll follow as soon as he can,” she said, her eyes on Mulder, her demeanor daring him to make a fuss.

To avoid obvious complications, Mulder remained silent. She was, after all, the doctor. And he was hoping that maybe she’d spill the beans if Skinner wasn’t around.

XXX

The following day came and left Mulder with little choice in the matter of going home or not. He was up before dawn and didn’t, as Scully had put it the day before, fall flat on his face. That made-up Scully’s mind. She wanted to go home and they ended up boarding the plane that afternoon with Skinner in tow.

The trip was long and became rather uncomfortable for Mulder near the end. Because of the confined space of planes in general, he couldn’t keep his foot up and it started throbbing angrily halfway through the trip. He downed two painkillers to take the top of the pain and they worked for a while, but then his foot started swelling, too, and the last flight from Toronto to DC became something close to a nightmare.

Squirming in his seat, he tried to shift around to find a more comfortable position, but couldn’t find the space to do so. Scully glanced at him occasionally, aware that he wasn’t much for admitting defeat by asking her for help. She was fully aware of his situation, but after having asked him three times if he were okay and having him nearly hiss at her that he was fine, she had settled for leaving him to suffer in silence. But his constant moseying around was disturbing her and eventually, she pushed the armrest between their chairs up, grabbed a hold of his leg and pulled it onto her lap, thereby forcing him to follow her movements by shifting around in his seat. She then handed him a pillow to put against the armrest behind him and then gave him a scrutinizing look. “You have to keep your foot up,” she told him, well aware that he knew that, too. She was, in fact, giving him a way around this whole dilemma without having to ask for help.

Mulder made a face and shifted a little, then settled back in a much more comfortable position. He considered his current position a little, then sighed. “Sorry for being such a pest,” he said with a quirky little smile on his lips.

Scully didn’t respond immediately although she was in the mood to let him have it right then. Not because she was angry with him or annoyed in general, but because she suddenly felt like she had the upper hand in this partnership. That would be just about the first time this had ever happened and she wanted to savor the moment a little while longer. She had information that Mulder wanted and she knew how frustrated he got when someone withheld what he considered vital evidence of one kind or another. And she was withholding evidence from him at this point, though not with the sole purpose of agitating him even though she had to admit that it played a part in it.

Figuring that she did owe him an answer to his claim, she turned her gaze toward him and smiled wistfully, her left hand resting on his shin just above the bandage. “Don’t worry about it. I’m getting used to it,” she told him, leaned her head back and closed her eyes, thereby effectively cutting off anything he might have to add to that.

XXX

J. Edgar Hoover building  
Washington, DC

Scully took her own sweet time to get things straight in her head, much to her partner’s and boss’s annoyance. Skinner kept pestering her about it because he wanted this whole thing to be over with and as long as she kept her whereabouts during those five days a secret, it wasn’t over. Mulder didn’t say much about it, but he kept looking at her in a strange way and she knew very well what was going through his head.

One afternoon two weeks after their return to DC, Mulder was sitting on his chair, his feet resting on the edge of his desk in accordance with doctor’s orders, going over some files since that was the only thing he could manage with such a severe sprain as the one he had, when Scully returned after having had another chat with Skinner about her whereabouts without telling him a thing. She had nodded and shaken her head at the right times and eventually just shrugged when he had once again asked her directly where she had been.

Mulder looked up when she stepped back into the office, then returned his attention to the file he was reading, not even bothering to ask how it had gone. He knew up front that she hadn’t told Skinner anything. He could tell from the expression on her face, that far-away look in her eyes.

Scully hesitated briefly beside her chair, then walked over to stand behind Mulder’s chair to get an idea about what he was reading. With no real surprise, she realized he was - once again - reading the file of the missing hikers. He had - rather pointedly - reminded her no more than a few days ago that she wasn’t the only one who had gone missing up there and when she saw the file again, she decided it was time to spill the beans. At least as far as she could explain what had happened.

“They weren’t taken by Bigfoot,” she said softly, her eyes on the folder.

Mulder virtually froze at her words. He realized that the enchanted moment had come and he was afraid to say anything at first out of fear that she would clam up again. But he then considered that this might be his only chance for getting her to talk about it, so he leaned his head back to look up at her. “How do you know that?” he wanted to know.

“Because they weren’t there. And... because they told me so,” Scully replied, not at him. She was afraid her courage might desert her if she met his eyes right then.

“They?” Mulder asked, pulled his feet off the desk and turned his chair around to better face her. “The hikers?”

Scully shook her head almost thoughtfully. “No, the creatures.”

His eyebrows shot up at her words and he almost rose. “There were more of them?”

That question made Scully smile weakly when she finally focused on him. “Oh yes. In order for them to survive without inbreeding, there would have to be several. And it’s my understanding that there are more of them out there.” She walked a few steps away from him and kept her back to him. “They should be left alone, Mulder. They’re not harming anyone. What happened to you was a mistake,” she went on and turned back to face him. “It thought you were hurting me.”

“Hurting you?” he asked, somewhat baffled by the whole thing. He didn’t really know what he had expected her to say when she was finally ready, but he hadn’t expected this. “But... I wasn’t. Not on purpose, at least.”

“You weren’t hurting me. That’s just the point. But, Mulder, we can’t let anybody know about them. Ever. We have to keep this a secret. We have to protect them against the outside world,” she said, her words both a plea and a demand.

His expression darkened a little. “Okay, we can do that. But what happens to the next one who stumbles across them? I mean, it might be better if people were made aware of them,” he suggested.

Scully sighed deeply at his words and shook her head. “Sometimes not knowing is better than knowing, Mulder. And this is one of these times. As long as people just think they’re a myth, they won’t go looking for them and hence won’t find them. These... beings steer clear of human settlements because they know the danger. They would end up in a zoo or in lab. And I will not be responsible for that. They’re gentle beings. They deserve to be left alone. And they’ve survived this long because they haven’t interacted with humans. Let it stay that way.”

Mulder stared at her for a moment, then finally nodded. “Your secret’s safe with me,” he promised. “Just tell me one thing,” he added. “What are they?”

Scully stared into space for a moment, then made a face as an explanation slowly took form in her mind. “Back in 1974, a team of scientists found the skeletal remains of what they called australopithecine or southern ape. They dubbed her Lucy. Remember that?” she asked and he nodded. “Well, the southern apes are believed to be extinct and that this happened about one million years ago. The thing is, I don’t think they are extinct. I think these beings I met are descendants of the southern ape. They’ve evolved alongside Homo sapiens, but because they are gentle creatures, they were out-manoeuvered... by us.”

“So... you think... they’re... what?” Try as he might, he couldn’t exactly get a grasp on what she was trying to tell him with this little anthropology lesson.

Scully merely smiled at him. “This could be the missing link in human evolution. The link between the true primate and Homo sapiens. These beings are intelligent and they possess a lot of our abilities, too. They communicate with each other in a complex language which I doubt we could even begin to learn. They are tool-users like us. But, being with them for five days, I didn’t even once see anything that resembled a weapon. Apart from that, they’re herbivores. Whether they’ve always been that or have evolved into that because we sort of cornered the market I don’t know. All I know is that I didn’t see any meat there, either.” She hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “It all depends on which part of the evolutionary theory you believe in. They may be another branch of evolution in which we all stand equal. In any event, I think they should be left alone so they can pursue their lives in peace. They avoid us because they don’t like our hostility towards each other and towards everything else. I think it’s only fair if we avoid them - so to speak.”

Mulder nodded thoughtfully. “The missing link, huh?” he asked and smiled . “Well, I suggest we lose that link again. There’s just one thing about this whole business that I don’t understand.”

Surprised, Scully looked him in the eye. “What’s that?” she wanted to know.

“When it took you away, you had a raging infection in your leg and you certainly couldn’t walk. Yet five days later, you walk back out of the forest, seemingly fine. How did that come about?” he wanted to know.

With a small smile, she dropped her gaze to the floor and stared at nothing for a moment. Then she glanced up at him again. “In want of a better description, they have healing abilities,” she finally said. “That’s the only way I can describe it. The one that took me away wrapped his hands around my knee and an hour or so later, I was feeling a lot better. It took me those days to get back to my feet and eventually, I figured I’d better go back where I belong. They went with me to show me the way, but didn’t want to go near the clearing because there had been so much activity in the previous days and they generally avoid humans.”

All he could do for a moment was stare at her. Then he simply smiled and leaned back on his chair. “How are you going to explain this one to Skinner?” he wanted to know.

She raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. “I don’t remember,” she replied and returned to her desk. “Memory is a tricking thing. And I... just don’t remember what happened to me,” she repeated and gave him a smile before attending to her work again.

Mulder smiled to himself and returned his attention to the folder in front of him. “That still doesn’t explain what happened to those hikers,” he said after a moment.

“Can’t help you there. I don’t know either,” Scully replied without looking back at him.

Mulder raised his head and looked over at her with a frown. It hit him that maybe she hadn’t told him everything and he knew already that she wouldn’t tell him any more than she had. “So, what do we do with this case, then?” he asked, hoping against hope that she would slip up.

“I guess we can do with that what we do with all the others. Leave it open,” she suggested. “Now, do you mind? I have a bunch of paperwork to go through.”

With that, the conversation on this topic was over. Mulder sighed and closed the folder somewhat reluctantly. He would so have loved to stamp this one with the big red CLOSED stamp he had in his drawer. That thing was collecting dust in this office and he would like to use it just once in a while. But it appeared that this wasn’t going to be this case that would allow the stamp to come out of its hiding place in the lower left drawer. With a brief shrug, he dropped the folder into the FOR FILING tray and leaned back again after propping his injured foot up on the desk again. “Another unsolved X-File,” he mumbled and glanced over at Scully, who made it a point to ignore him. All he could do was smile again. At least she was back home, safe and sound, and with an experience that had opened her mind a little more to extreme possibilities.


End file.
